


Misplaced Childhood

by etoile_etiolee



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Childhood Sexual Abuse, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Christian Kane, Younger Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:24:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 58,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2051769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoile_etiolee/pseuds/etoile_etiolee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared Padalecki is 7 years old, Jensen Ackles barely five, when they get kidnapped and sexually abused. Rescued but struggling with the consequences, the boys share a special bond that seems unbreakable. Growing up in different environments, they each deal with the aftermath the best they can. Now, Jensen is 22 years old, addicted to drugs and still suffering from PTSD. Although they haven't seen each other in years, Jared doesn't hesitate to come to his aid when he hits rock bottom. With his help, maybe Jensen can finally have a second chance at life. Happiness is just around the corner, however unlikely and impossible it might seem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta work by the amazing firesign10  
> Special thanks to disneymagics for her precious collaboration.  
> Illustrations made by the very talented pennydrdful
> 
> Disclaimer: None of this is true.

_“The spirit of a misplaced childhood is rising to speak his mind_  
To this orphan of heartbreak, disillusioned and scarred.”  
Marillion, Misplaced Childhood 

**PART 1  
When We Were Very Young**

_Prologue_

Jared doesn’t know how long he’s been there anymore. He used to count the days, but he lost track some time ago because there is no light in the basement. When the Man takes him to the white room, Jared feels like he’s dreaming: everything is strange and not right, and then the Man touches him and nothing else matters anymore.

Jared spends his time curled up on his dirty mattress, under his too-thin blanket. He closes his eyes and thinks about his family; about Mom and Dad and Jeff and baby Megan, and sometimes it’s like he’s really there with them, throwing a ball with Jeff who calls him shortstop and ruffles his hair to annoy him. And then Mom allows him to hold Meggie, and the baby is warm and smells so good and then… then he’s back in the basement that stinks from pee and poo and vomit, and he cries a little. He used to cry more when it all started, and Tommy, the other boy on the mattress next to his, would comfort him. Not anymore. Tommy doesn’t talk much. He stays lying on his side and doesn’t even use the buckets when he needs to go.

Sometimes, Jared is mad at himself because he’s a big boy –almost seven- and he should’ve known better than to help a stranger look for his lost puppy, but it was daylight and Jared was so close to home. He’d thought… he’d thought he was safe.

It’s not the only reason Jared is mad. He’s mad because he’s sure Mom and Dad are looking for him everywhere and are so upset, and what if they think he ran away because of baby Meggie? Because Jared is a selfish boy who threw temper tantrums when Megan was born and Mom and Dad didn’t have any more time for him.

And if Jared’s parents think he ran away, maybe they’re not even looking for him, maybe…

That’s where he usually stops thinking so hard because one day, one day, Jared and Tommy will get out of there, and they won’t have to go in the white room with the Man anymore.

Then something different happens. One day, the Man comes down with their breakfast, like he does every morning –or what Jared thinks is morning- and Tommy doesn’t wake up. The Man shakes him and pulls him into his arms and yells his name but Tommy doesn’t move. Jared is petrified with fear because sometimes, when The Man gets angry, he can hurt them. 

But he doesn’t, not this time. He wraps Tommy in a blanket and tells Jared he’s going to get Tommy to a doctor.

Jared doesn’t believe him, and Tommy doesn’t come back. Jared tries not to think about Tommy anymore because he’d have to think about death, and he doesn’t know for sure. Maybe Tommy’s not really dead.

Jared doesn’t stay alone for very long. Shortly after Tommy is taken away, the Man brings another kid into the basement. He’s young –younger than Jared - and he’s wrapped in a blanket, with only his blond hair peeking out. The Man settles him on Tommy’s mattress and ties his ankle with the heavy chain bracelet. 

The little boy calls for his mom and cries. He doesn’t even answer when Jared talks to him. Jared understands. He did the same thing when he arrived here. The boy is tiny, with huge green eyes and freckles on his nose. His name is Jensen. He is five. It took Jared a whole hour of coaxing him to get to know this information.

After two days, Jensen doesn’t have anything left in him to call for his mom. Jared takes care of him. He shows him how to use the buckets when he needs to go, and how to move without hurting his ankle. He tries to explain what the Man does, but Jensen gets so upset that Jared gives up.

Jensen is always sad, but it’s okay, because Jared is too. The little boy doesn’t want to sleep alone on his mattress, so Jared shares his with him. Jensen is always snuggled tight against him. He likes to hold his hand. Jared feels a little better now that he has someone to care for.

Then, the Man does his thing for the first time since Jensen arrived. Jared is used to it by now. Doesn’t mean it gets less scary. It always goes like this: for two days, the man won’t bring them food, only water. Then he’ll come with plates full of pastries and cookies and sweets, and they can eat all they want. At the beginning, Jared didn’t know there was something bad in the food, but he’s learned not to resist anyway. It doesn’t do any good, because there won’t be any other food given until he’s eaten this. If it’s his turn, he’ll wake up in the white room upstairs, scrubbed clean and naked. Sometimes the man takes pictures. Sometimes it’s worse. The stuff he puts in the food must be still working, because Jared always has trouble remembering what happens in the white room. 

It’s better that way anyway.

Jared doesn’t warn Jensen, because he doesn’t want to scare the little boy. He had already told him that sometimes the man takes them elsewhere for a little while, and Jensen doesn’t have to worry about this because there is nothing he can do about it. 

Jensen is stuffing himself with chocolate chip cookies, smiling at Jared with his mouth full. Jared eats too, but slower. He’s so hungry. 

Soon, they’ll fall asleep, Jared knows. He just doesn’t know who’s going to end up in the white room with the Man.

It’s Jensen. Of course it is. Jared waits, floating, like he isn’t really there. He moves his hands in front of his face and laughs alone in the darkness of the basement. That’s what the stuff in the food does to him.

Later, the man brings Jensen back downstairs. He’s wrapped in a soft- looking blanket and still groggy. The man calls him his little angel, kissing him all over as he lays Jensen down. It makes Jared want to puke.

When Jensen wakes up all the way, he cries. It hurts, he says, and he’s bleeding from his butt. Jared tries to help him as much as he can. He knows it can hurt a lot. They stuff Jensen’s sleeping pants with toilet paper, and Jared tucks him into his bed and tells him a story. He’s not sure he remembers it right, but there is soup and a button involved, and a young girl who tricks an old man into making a sumptuous meal with the soup.

After that, it’s like the Man has forgotten Jared is there at all. Each time he gives them the special food, it’s Jensen he takes into the white room. Jared guesses he should be relieved, but he isn’t, because Jensen feels so bad afterward. He vomits and cries, and sometimes his butt bleeds again. Jared does his best to take care of Jensen. He’s only seven, but sometimes he feels like he’s older, like when he’s angry at the Man and wishes he would die. 

That could happen. He could fall and hurt his head, or be in a car accident. Sometimes Jared falls asleep imagining it, and it feels good, so good.

One day, Jensen becomes sick. At first, it’s only the sniffles and, even though he feels really bad, Jared isn’t worried. A couple of days later, though, it’s not just that anymore. Jensen coughs and coughs like it will never end; his skin is hot, his eyes all glassy. The man comes to feed them and he sees how sick Jensen is. He throws a fit. Jared is scared he’s going to end up hurting them. This time, the Man throws the plates away and they smash against the wall. Then he kneels next to Jensen and speaks to him softly, calls him his little angel, tells him he won’t let anything happen to him, and then he cries. It’s an ugly sound. Jared kinds of want to tell him that if he’d let them go, Jensen would be okay, but the words are stuck in his throat because he knows, deep down, that the Man won’t let them get away, ever.

He brings pills to Jensen, and for some time, he comes downstairs at least twice a day to take care of him. But Jensen gets worse instead of better, and the Man stops visiting, like he’s given up.

Jared thinks about Tommy and when he got sick before he stopped moving, and it scares him. He takes Jensen with him on onto his mattress and holds him tight. Jensen doesn’t talk much anymore. He coughs and moans and cries, but doesn’t talk.

It’s been two days, maybe, since the man last visited them, and there is only half a bottle of water left. Jared tries not to drink too much, to leave the water for Jensen, but most of the time, Jensen chokes on it. His lips are all blue and his eyes keep rolling in their sockets. He doesn’t even cough anymore, like he doesn’t have the strength to do so, but when he breathes, it makes a wet, rattling sound. 

Jared might only be seven, but he knows Jensen is going to die soon. 

Suddenly, there is a lot of noise upstairs, like people are running through the house. Some of them scream, there is a huge “bang” and the sound of broken glass.

Jared is frozen in place. He thinks he might be dreaming. It wouldn’t be the first time.

The door at the top of the stairs bursts open. Jared holds Jensen tighter. He wants to scream, but the words are frozen in his throat. A woman wearing a police uniform runs down the stairs and sees them. “They’re here!” she yells. “Come on, I need help! Somebody call an ambulance!

She kneels besides Jared. There are tears in her eyes. “It’s okay, guys, it’s okay. You’re safe. What’s your name?”

“J-Jared,” he murmurs. “My friend is very sick, you have to help him.”

“Don’t worry, sport, we’ll take care of him.”

Jared doesn’t know how it happens. A lot of people have suddenly appeared in the basement. He’s crying, and he keeps telling them to take care of Jensen. A man is trying to take Jensen in his arms, but Jensen starts to scream, holding onto Jared with all the strength that’s left in him. Jared doesn’t want to let go either, but he knows he has to if he wants Jensen to get help.

Jensen is the first to be taken upstairs. Another man is getting Jared out of his chain and talking softly to him. Jared doesn’t listen. All he can hear are Jensen’s desperate cries for him.

It’s over.

______

CHAPTER 1

Jared stays in the hospital for a whole week. They have tests to do, and they say he’s dehydrated so he needs a drip. His mom and dad are there with him. His mom cries a lot. There is a nice policewoman who comes and asks questions. Everybody is murmuring and looking at him like he could break at any time. Jared gets annoyed. He wants to go back home and play with his toys, with Jeff. He wants to sleep in his room, watch TV, and hold his baby sister. He wants to go outside. It’s summer now, which is strange because it was winter when Jared got taken by The Man. His parents told him he spent six months in The Man’s basement. 

Most of all, though, Jared wants to know about Jensen. He’s been taken to a different hospital and no one seem to want to answer him until Jared throws a fit because he’s scared that Jensen was too sick -that he’s dead, and no one knows how to tell him. The police officer finally explains him that the doctors were very worried about Jensen for a while, and that’s why no one could answer him. He’s getting better now, even if he’s going to stay in the hospital for a long time.

Jared doesn’t give up. He goes home, and nothing is the same anymore. Megan is crawling now and making all sort of noises, and Jeff doesn’t tease him like he used to, and his dad asks him if he wants a puppy. Jared wants to make sure Jensen is alright, so he keeps asking. One day he hears his parents murmuring together, and then his dad spends a long time on the phone before he comes to see Jared where he’s watching TV in the living room. Jared likes the living room now because there are a lot of windows, and he wonders how he didn’t realize it before.

Dad sits next to him and shuts the TV off. He wraps an arm around Jared’s shoulders and Jared tenses a second because this reminds him of the Man, but then he thinks very hard that this is his dad, and Dad would never hurt him.

Dad smiles. “How are you doing, sport?”

“Fine.”

“So, I’ve talked to Jensen’s mother.”

Jared gets all nervous and excited, and he feels like he’s going to cry.

“He’s still pretty sick and he won’t talk to anybody. He said your name, though.”

“That’s why, that’s why I need to see him, he needs me,” Jared blurts out, and now he’s crying, like a big baby.

Dad holds him tighter and kisses the top of his head. Dad does this all the time now. He never used to do it before. “Calm down, Jared. I know it’s important to you. One of the special doctors who takes care of Jensen thinks it might be a good idea if you came to visit him.”

“Yes it is, it is, Dad, I’ll be good, I promise.”

Dad’s chin is trembling a little and he clears his throat, tries to smile, except that it comes out more like a grimace. “I know you will, son.”

::: :::

It’s Jared’s dad who takes him to the hospital. Jared’s mom has bought a teddy bear for Jensen, all soft and silky, just like the one Jared has. Jared holds onto it tight as they go through sliding doors. “You have to be careful not to upset him,” Dad murmurs, “because he’s still very sick, you understand?”

Jared nods, almost impatiently. He knows Jensen, his father doesn’t. 

The room is quiet, and there's a lady that must be Jensen’s mother sitting near the bed. Jensen looks even smaller than back in the basement. His face is white with red stains on his cheeks. His eyes are barely opened because they’re all swollen and bluish. He doesn’t have a drip on his hand like Jared did, but something is stuck in his neck with lots of bandages. Machines are beeping all around him, and he has this strange tube under his nose that goes around his ears and makes a soft, wush-y sound.

“Jensen,” Jared says, maybe a little too loudly because the lady jumps in her seat and her face gets all pinched-up.

“Careful,” Jared’s dad repeats.

Jared gets close to the bed and Jensen’s eyes get huge. He tries to sit, but he can’t. His mother presses a hand on his belly. “Don’t hurt yourself, honey.”

“Jared,” Jensen says, his voice all tiny and raspy.

He smiles a little. Jared puts the teddy bear next to him. “I wanted to come before,” he states. “You were too sick.”

Jensen stretches a hand and Jared knows what it means. Of course he knows. He takes off his sneakers and starts to climb on the bed. His father holds him back, though, and Jensen’s mother stands up suddenly, telling him he can’t do it, he’s going to hurt Jensen.

“No, it’s okay, let him climb,” a woman’s voice states.

Jared turns his head and sees the nice-looking lady that visited him at the hospital. She had said she’s a special doctor, she'd asked a lot of question about what had happened to Jared, but she’s fun too. She makes jokes and always has treats and little toys with her. Her name is Dr. Huffman, but only the nurses and Jared’s parents have to call her that. Jared can call her Laina. She winks at him and makes a sign with her hand.

Jared doesn’t have to be told twice. He climbs onto the bed with the help of his father, being very careful of all the different tubes and stuff. Jensen’s mom seems to be frozen in place, and she looks at Jared like she’s mad at him. Jared doesn’t really care, though. As soon as he’s lying next to his friend, Jensen moves slowly on the bed until they touch. Jared takes Jensen’s hand. He grabs the teddy bear in his other.

“My mom bought this for you. I have the same, except the fur on mine is brown instead of golden.”

Jensen smiles a little. He looks around, wincing, and it must hurt because there is yellow stuff stuck at the corner of his eyes. It leaks a bit.

“Wanna ask you a question,” Jensen murmurs, caressing the fur of his new stuffed animal. 

He turns his head so that he can speak directly into Jared’s ear. “Where’s the Bad Man now?” 

Jensen’s mother makes some sort of strangled noise and Laina says: “please Mrs. Ackles,” but Jared doesn’t really care. He looks at Jensen in the eyes. “He’s in jail. Mom says he’ll never, ever get out. They locked him up. Jensen, we’re safe.”

“Cause I’m scared,” Jensen admits in the same murmured voice.

Jared nods. He’s scared too. He knows the Man can’t hurt him anymore. The nice police officer, she said that he would be in jail until the Trial, where a lot of people and a judge are going to tell him that he has to stay locked up because he did forbidden things.

Still, it doesn’t change anything, Jared knows. The Man –he has a name, Benton Glass - is still there with him in his head.

“We should give them a moment,” Laina says.

Jared can hear the footsteps of his father and him saying: “I’ll be right outside, Jared.”

Jensen’s mom shakes his head. “But I’m not sure.” 

“Please Mrs. Ackles” Laina repeats again, and she moves away from them.

“I want you to stay with me,” Jensen tells Jared in a conspiracy voice. “Mommy cries all the time, I think she’s scared too.”

“My mom cries a lot too,” Jared says, because even if he’s only seven, he knows he can’t stay with Jensen at the hospital. He just doesn’t know how to say it.

“They looked for us for a very long time and they were worried, and now they’re sad because of what the man did to us,” he tries to explain.

Jensen nods and closes his eyes. Jared stays quiet, just hold his hand and waits. That’s what they used to do back in the basement.

Jared knows exactly when Jensen falls asleep, when there is this hitch in his breathing rhythm before it slows down a little. He feels good. Wishes that he could stay.

::: :::

Jared goes to see Laina twice a week at her office. He likes it, even if sometimes he doesn’t feel like talking about the Man and everything that’s different now. Laina says he can talk about whatever he wants, which is good, and when Jared feels upset and angry inside, she lets him punch a big cushion and it feels a little better. She explains a lot of things to him, and it’s easier than with Mom and Dad. Jared doesn’t like when his mother gets all sad and starts crying, and his father’s face tenses like he’s really, really angry. It happens sometimes when he talks about the Man. With Laina, though, it’s easier, and she never says he’s too young to know something. She tells him it’s normal to still be scared, to have trouble sleeping alone in his room and not to feel safe even though the Man is locked up. She reassures him when Jared starts to wet his bed again like a baby. 

Jared hears a lot of stuff his parents and other adults talk about when they think he can’t hear them. Some of this stuff is scary. He now knows that The Man, Benton Glass, did bad stuff to other kids. He learns that Tommy is dead, and, although he’s not surprised, it scares him so much he can’t breathe anymore and when he cries, it hurts. Laina says she understand and lets him calm down. Jared had heard that they had found two little boys buried in The Man’s backyard. He doesn’t know the other one, but it’s still hurting him, thinking that maybe Jensen too would have been buried in the backyard if the cops hadn’t come and save him. Laina explains it all to him. She even tells him about the journalists that sometimes call home or knock at the door, and why it makes his parents so upset. 

“When something like this happens to kids, Jared, there is a law that protects them, and people don’t have the right to write their name in the papers or say it in the news on TV. When you disappeared, though, a lot of people put a lot of efforts in finding you. Your photo was everywhere. So people know who you are anyway. Same thing goes for Jensen.”

“But why do they want to talk to me?”

Laina smiles. “Maybe they just think you’re a very brave boy and they want everybody to know. Journalists like stories, and stories like yours and Jensen’s are stories that interest a lot of people, even if they’re sad ones. Your parents just want to protect you, and they’re right.”

Jared has all kind of worries, like how things will be when he gets back to school, and will his parents ever go back to the way they were before, because now they’re never mad at him, even if he does something bad. Jeff gets grounded, but Jared only gets soft words. It angers him, so he punches the cushion, and after that he feels tired and spent, but there is no more fire burning in the pit of his belly.

The most important reason why Jared loves Laina so much, though, doesn’t have anything to do with the way she treats him, or what he’s allowed to do in her office. He loves Laina because she’s the one who told Jensen’s mom that it would be a good idea to let them see each other once a week. Jensen’s mom wasn’t sure, but Laina convinced her because she’s a doctor. Jared’s not supposed to know this, but he overheard. He keeps it like a warm secret inside of him.

It’s easy to see Jensen because he has to come and visit Laina too. Once a week, they meet at her office and play together in the large room full of toys and soft cushions and chairs that’s right next to Laina’s office. Their parents wait outside, which is good because Jensen still doesn’t like to talk, but when he’s alone with Jared, he does. They like to make a huge pile of cushions and sink in it, Jensen holding Jared’s hand. Sometimes they play. Sometimes they talk. Sometimes they just stay together close enough to touch, and Jared always feels good afterward. Jensen needs him. It’s not like back home where Jared’s family treats him like he’s a fragile, tiny baby like his sister. With Jensen, Jared feels confident and useful and grown-up, and it’s wonderful to have this impression that although everything around him is wrong, Jensen still looks at him like he did the first time he saw him. Jensen trusts him.

One day toward the end of the summer, Laina comes to see Jared at home. It’s the first time she's done that, so Jared is a little nervous. She wants to speak with his parents first and Jared is scared he did something really wrong, although he can’t figure out what. He waits in his room, playing with his new puppy. It’s a girl, a Dalmatian, just like he asked for. He named her Blue because she has one blue eye and it’s very rare.

When Laina comes to see him, Blue is asleep on Jared’s lap. Laina sits on Jared’s bed and gently pats the puppy’s head. Blue blinks and yawns and it makes Laina smile.

“I have come to ask you something, Jared,” Laina tells him. “I had to ask your parents first and they’re okay with it, but I want you to know that you don’t have to say yes. No one will be angry with you if you refuse to do it.”

“Do what?”

Laina asks him if he knows what a trial is. Jared does, kind of. His mom watches a lot of shows where there are trials with a judge and lots of people like lawyers, and it’s the Law, so when someone does something bad, he has to have a trial so the judge can send him to jail. Laina says he’s right, and that although Benton Glass is already in jail, he has to have a trial too so that a judge can say he will never be able to get out. Ever.

That’s a good thing. There is a lawyer whose job is to tell the judge everything The Man did wrong, and he thinks Jared could help him with this. Jared won’t have to go to the Courthouse, though. The lawyer is going to ask him questions and there will be a camera filming him. Jared’s parents will be there, Laina as well. It’s his choice, she says.

“Will Jensen do it too?”

“No,” Laina shakes her head, smiling. “He’s still very young and he has trouble talking about what happened. He’s scared, doesn’t know how to talk about it.”

“Can I tell the lawyer what he did to Jensen too?”

It’s important, Jared thinks, that the judge understands this, how wrong and bad the Man had been, not only with him, but with Tommy, then with Jensen.

“You can say whatever you want, Jared. And I think it’s very brave of you.”

“Okay,” Jared says. “I can talk to the lawyer.”

It happens soon enough. The lawyer’s name is Jeffrey and he looks like a nice man. They’re sitting at the table in Laina’s playing room and there is someone from the Courthouse who, Jeffrey tells Jared, is going to be responsible for the camera and make sure that everything they do is okay with the Law, and the judge. Jared’s parents are sitting with Laina behind the camera. Jeffrey tells Jared not to worry, that there aren’t any wrong answers to his questions, and that he can stop whenever he wants. Jared agrees. Then he starts talking. The questions are easy at first, and when Jeffrey starts with the really difficult ones, Jared is comfortable enough with him to say everything he remembers. He tries not to forget anything because this is important. This is for the judge to make his decision, and Jared wants The Man to stay in jail forever.

At some point, Jeffrey takes strange dolls out of a bag. They’re in white cotton and have butts and penises, but no face. Jeffrey wants Jared to show him with the dolls what Benton Glass did to him. Jared doesn’t like this part –and apparently, his mother as well because she gets out of the playing room quickly, without making a noise. Laina smiles reassuringly to Jared and nods, so he goes on. He’s shivering now because he can still remember being in the white room, how sick he felt, with the Man’s big hands all over him or his penis in Jared’s face, sticky and smelly, and him saying: “yes, come on, Jared, you’re a big boy. I want you to suck on it, just like a lollipop.”

Jared tells everything, and when Jeffrey thanks him and tells him how brave he’s been, how important what he just did is, he bursts out crying. He didn’t think that would happen, and it surprises him because he’s choking and he can’t stop, even if he wants to. 

Laina gets up and kneels right next to him, rubbing his back and telling him that it’s over, but it’s not. Jared sees Jeffrey getting ready to leave and he panics.

“Wait,” he hiccups, “Wait, I want to say something because you didn’t ask and it’s important.”

Jeffrey nods and sits back. “I’m listening, Jared. Take all the time you need.”

“You have to tell the judge,” he pants, trying to catch his breath, “tell the judge that the Man did bad stuff to Jensen too and he doesn’t talk about it, Laina says, because he doesn’t know how, but… Tell the judge, alright, because the Man hurt him real bad and made him bleed and it was always him… Always him at the end.”

“Come on, Jared, try to slow down your breathing just like I showed you,” Laina tells him.

He tries. Very hard. His dad is up, ready to come to him too. It makes him feel a little better, but he’s not done. “Promise? he asks Jeffrey. “Promise you’ll talk about Jensen too.”

Jeffrey takes him by the shoulders and looks at him straight in the eyes, like Jared is an adult, not a scared little kid who can’t stop crying.

“I promise you, Jared. I’ll tell the judge everything.”

And Jared believes him.


	2. Chapter 2

School is a scary place. Jensen's mom said he would play and make friends and learn all sorts of fun things, but Jensen doesn’t like it.

He tries to be brave. He sits with the others on the colorful carpet and they sing a song. The teacher’s name is Miss Reitman, and she smiles while singing. Jensen doesn’t know the song but he sits very still and tries to learn some words. 

Then Miss Reitman asks them to stand up and say their name, and Jensen is the second one. He stands, but when he wants to talk nothing comes out, and it makes him think about stuff he doesn’t want to think about, and everything looks funny around him. He tries again, very hard. And then he hears something in his head, the voice that scares him so much. “Come on, little angel, you can talk to me. I love it when you talk to me.”

Jensen feels his pants getting all wet and warm, and some kids are murmuring, and someone says: “He peed. He peed his pants.”

And it’s true. Jensen starts crying and it’s the worst. He wants to go home. He doesn’t like school. And now every kid will make fun of him.

Miss Reitman takes him out of the class and into the Principal’s office. She’s nice with him, says it doesn’t matter, that accidents happen and that Jensen doesn’t have to be upset about it.

Jensen’s mom comes to get him a little bit later. She gives him a bath and then makes him a bowl of cereal –his favorite, Cap'n Crunch- even if it’s lunch time and cereal is for breakfast. Mom doesn’t ask any questions, doesn’t talk about what happened in school. They watch a video on the couch during the afternoon. _Aladdin_. Jensen’s mom hugs him tight and runs her fingers through his hair. He stays very still and tries not to move, even though he really wants to because it reminds him of another hand in his hair and it makes him sick to his stomach. But now, Mom is sad all the time, and Jensen doesn’t want to upset her.

::: :::

Jensen always fights when it’s time to go to bed. It doesn’t matter that the hallway light stays turned on, and that mom’s room is right in front of his. He hates it when the story is read and he has to stay alone in his bed and wait to fall asleep. He sees shadows moving on the walls and hears noise from the closet, and he’s cold all over. Mom keeps telling him that he needs his sleep, that’s he’s been sick and she wants him to get better. When Jensen came back from the hospital, mom let him sleep with her, but he didn’t like it because mom kept moving besides him and mumbling in her sleep, and it scared him. 

Before, Jensen loved his mom so much he had sometimes felt like he was going to burst from it, just from looking at her and knowing she was his, his mom, caring and loving and always with him, taking all the place available in his heart. Now, she’s not like she used to be. Jensen tries very hard to love her as much as he used to, but it’s difficult. He didn’t want any of this to happen, for Mom not to be the same mom and him not being the same Jensen. It makes him sad because now the person he loves the most is Jared, and the only moments he doesn’t feel scared or lost is when he gets to see Jared. His mom would be upset if she knew, so Jensen tries, as hard as he can, to love her. He doesn’t know if it’s okay, because mom doesn’t love him as much as she used to either, he thinks. He’s different too, that must be it. 

It’s all Jensen’s fault anyway, because when a stranger asks for your help, you’re not supposed to do it, and he didn’t listen. The stranger lied to him, told him that he had a bunch of tiny kittens in his car and asked Jensen if he’d like to see them. Jensen said yes, because he likes kittens, and he didn’t know it would be dangerous, but he should have. 

When he stops crying because Mom won’t let him get out of bed anyway, Jensen closes his eyes shut tight and tries not to think about anything scary. It’s hard. The only way he can do it is imagining that Jared is right there in the room with him, and he’s talking, telling silly stories to make him laugh and holding his hand. It helps. 

Still, when he wakes up that morning, Jensen has wet his bed. His mother doesn’t say anything and gets him in the bath. He asks if he’ll have to go to school. She says maybe later.

::: :::

Laina is so nice. She always speaks to him with a very quiet voice and gives Jensen toys to play with. Jensen especially likes the little matchbox cars and the coloring supplies. Laina has a big box of markers and lots of paper sheets, and all the markers work like they’re brand new.

Jensen would like to talk to her, he really would, because he thinks that’s what she wants. She’s a special doctor, she says, one that can help him get better. Jensen wants to get better. When he tries to speak, though, he can never do it for long. Something swells in his throat and makes it hurt. And sometimes all he wants to do is cry, or fall asleep.

Laina never gets angry because Jensen can’t speak a lot. She draws with him, sometimes. Asks questions about the bike Jensen draws, or what he had for lunch before coming to meet her.

Today, she wants to talk about school. She says it’s normal to be afraid, and asks if he knows what could make it better.

“Can Jared come to my school?” Jensen asks. He can’t think of another solution. Jared makes everything better.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry, but Jared is older and he lives in another part of the city. That’s why he can’t be in school with you.”

Jensen nods and makes his little car roll on the floor. He knew she would say that. But she asked him, right?

“Maybe you can make friends, friends that will make you feel better just like Jared does. You can make a lot of friends at school, you know?”

Yes, Jensen knows. But it wouldn’t be the same.

“Can you try again, you think? Maybe you could go until lunch and then your mom could come and get you, how about that?”

Jensen nods again. He’ll try. It’s Mom who didn’t want to take him back. He doesn’t bother explaining it. It’s too complicated and tiring to talk about.

“Okay, I think Jared is already here,” Laina says, winking at him. “What do you think? We can stop now and you’ll get to have a little more time with your friend.”

Jensen is already up, his heart beating fast. He smiles at Laina. That’s the best part. Always the best part. 

Jensen walks straight past his mom and Jared’s dad to the playing room. Jared is there, piling up cushions. Jensen runs to him and grabs his arm.

“Hi,” Jared says, his smiles as big as Jensen’s.

“Hi,” Jensen answers. 

Jared drops on the cushions, taking Jensen with him. They fight for fun for a little while and Jared tickles him, but not long enough for it to start hurting. 

Afterward, Jensen stays where he is; lying on his back, all comfortable and warm, sinking in the cushions. Jared is sitting and looking down at him. If they could stay like this forever then Jensen would be alright. He knows.

“I started school,” Jared tells him. 

“Me too,” Jensen murmurs, turning on his side to wrap his arm around Jared’s leg.

He’s sleepy. In a good way.

“It sucked,” Jared goes on, making a face. “My friends, they look at me like they’re scared, and I have to do my school year all over again because I missed too much and I’m in a class with little kids.”

“Don’t like school,” Jensen mumbles. 

“I think maybe my friends will forget about when I disappeared and everybody talked about it all the time. Maybe,” Jared drags out, not smiling anymore. “And then it would be just like it was before.”

“Come to my school,” Jensen asks. “Come to my school and in my class and we’ll be friends.”

“We’re already friends, you know it. But I can’t, Jensen.”

“I know. Jared?”

“Yes.”

“The button soup.”

Jared shakes his head. “Not again!”

“Yeah,” Jensen smiles because he knows Jared is teasing him.

“Okay. So there was this nice girl named Daisy, and one day she went to visit her uncle…”

Jensen lets Jared’s words rock him into a peaceful not-quite-sleep. He just feels warm and heavy and protected. 

::: :::

Jensen goes back to school. Sometimes he can stay the whole day, sometimes Miss Reitman finds him hiding in the closet where she keeps her puzzles and board games. Those times, she calls Jensen’s mom, who comes to get him. She never seems mad at him, but she also never seems happy to see him.

Jensen doesn’t make friends because he doesn’t talk a lot, and he gets nervous when there are too many people around. He prefers drawing and coloring in his corner rather than playing with the others. Mrs. Reitman asked him why he always put so much red and black on his drawings. He shrugs. He doesn’t know why, just like he doesn’t know why he feels like he can’t breathe when Mr. Paul, the janitor, smiles at him, or comes into the class to clean some mess.

Sometimes Jensen even dreams of Mr. Paul cleaning the school floor with that big, noisy machine, except when he lifts his head, it’s not Mr. Paul at all. It’s the Bad Man. He came back to get Jensen. Those nights, Jensen wakes up and wants to hurt himself real bad. He gets so mad at himself for having those dreams, and not loving Mom as much as he used to, and wetting his bed, and being unable to talk when there are too many people.

Maybe if he’d be better, his mom would love him as much as she used to, and everything would be like it was before.

When it gets like this and Jensen can’t hold back his tears, he sometimes bites on his bottom lip very hard, and it starts by tickling and then it hurts, and he feels a little better.  
Just a little.

::: :::

It's almost Christmas, and it will be the last time Jensen sees Jared before the holidays. They sit at the table in the play room and eat the gingerbread men Laina has baked for them. Jared asks Jensen if he’s alright and Jensen doesn’t want to ruin their time together, so he tries to smile, but he’s sad because he will miss Jared, and he doesn’t look forward to Christmas that much.

“You know, something important happened yesterday,” Jared confides to him. “About the Bad Man.”

Jensen winces. He’s not sure at all he wants to hear about him.

“No, it’s really good news,” Jared adds. “The Bad Man has been in this trial where a judge has listened to everything bad he did. And yesterday the judge said the trial was over and that he would never, ever get out of jail.”

“What’s a trial?”

“It’s in this huge room where there are a lot of people, and it’s like the police a little because they can decide if someone goes to jail or not.”

Jensen nods. His mom told him a long time ago that he didn’t need to worry about the Bad Man anymore, and they shouldn’t talk about him. He doesn’t know how he feels about that. It’s too hard to think and feeling like everything hurt inside. 

“It snowed a lot today,” is what Jensen says. He drops his cookie on the plate. He’s not hungry anymore.

“I brought new pictures of Blue, wanna see them?”

“Yes,” Jensen nods eagerly because then he can push the thoughts of the Bad Man away.

::: :::

Christmas comes. Jensen’s mom takes him to his granny. It’s a long ride. Jensen should be excited. He remembers he had been before, because he will get to see his cousins and all mom’s family. It doesn’t go like he hoped it would. He doesn’t feel good amongst so many people, even if they’re familiar, and he keeps trying to find spaces where he can hide and feel safe, like wardrobes or closets, and when his cousins realize what he’s doing, they stop trying to include him in their games. The adults always become quiet when Jensen is around and, more than one time, he sees his mom cry. It’s his fault, it’s because of what happened to him, and Jensen hides and bites his lips and even scratches his tummy with his fingernails leaving long red lines on his pale skin.

Then they travel back home. Jensen plays with his new toys and watches TV and waits until school is starting again, because that means Jensen will get to see Laina and Jared.

But then school starts, and Wednesday, the day mom comes to get him during the afternoon for his appointment, she doesn’t take him to Laina’s office. Instead, they stop at Dairy Queen and mom buys Jensen a sundae with everything he wants on top. She keeps smiling and she doesn’t eat anything. Jensen waits, tries to enjoy his sundae but it feels like a ball in his tummy and he has trouble going on. 

They should be going see Laina by now. Jensen wants to tell Jared he got the Lego pack he’d wanted for Christmas, and some other stuff as well. And maybe hold his hand a little, if Jared wants.

Mom looks at him for a long time, and then she lowers her head. “You know, Jensen, we don’t have to go see Dr. Huffman anymore. It’s good news, right?”

Jensen’s mouth is full of liquid ice cream so he has to swallow and it hurts. There is a buzzing sound in his ears. He wants to ask about Jared, because when will he see Jared if they don’t go at Laina’s office anymore?

“Jared,” is the only thing he can say.

Mom doesn’t smile anymore, but she keeps her eyes lowered, drawing circles on the table with her finger.

“I think it’s time you take a little vacation from Jared. You didn’t make any friends at school and-“

“No,” Jensen says, and it comes out of his mouth louder than he wanted.

“Jay, baby, we need to get back to normal. This isn’t doing you any good, it keeps getting back to those horrible things that happened to you. What mommy wants is for you to forget. “

Jensen nods. He knows he’s crying, but he can’t help himself. “Mommy, please.”

“I know, baby, but we’ll be fine. Mom is going to take good care of you.”

And everything that’s already wrong gets worse. Jensen wants to speak but it stays stuck in his throat, and his belly hurts, and suddenly he throws up all over the table.

::: :::

Jensen tries. He really tries hard. He knows Mom is upset and angry and he wants so bad for it to stop. He wants to tell her that he’s angry too, because she doesn’t want him to see Jared anymore, but he can’t.

When he thinks about saying the words out loud, though, he feels all strange and they won’t come out, and maybe there is something wrong with his throat because it does the same thing when he tries eating; however hard he does it, he has to spit or puke. It’s funny, because if Jensen wants to tell something that doesn’t have to do with Jared or how angry he is, his voice works just fine.

Mom wants him to eat, though. And Jensen wants her to leave him alone because he doesn’t like to be angry at her, it hurts. So he tries, again and again, but nothing works. And then on Monday, at school, everything gets blurry and Jensen falls, just like it used to happen back with the Bad Man after eating the special meals.

His mom has to take him to the hospital because if Jensen doesn’t eat, he’s going to keep feeling very sick. Jensen doesn’t want to go, because it reminds him of when he was very ill because of the Bad Man, but like everything that matters, that stays stuck in his throat. 

They get him a room and a drip in his hand, and it hurts. Everything is so clean, like in the white room where the Bad Man used to take him. A nice nurse stays with him during the time Mom takes to speak to a doctor, and then Jensen falls asleep, because he’s very tired, and sometimes it’s better to sleep, even with the nightmares.

When he wakes up, it’s because Laina is there and shaking him very gently. Mom is there too, but farther away, with her arms crossed and her upset face on.

Jensen is so relieved to see Laina that all he can do is cry, and she’s very sweet with him, rubbing his arm and telling that everything will be okay. She asks why he doesn’t eat and he says he can’t, that it stays stuck in his throat. Then she asks if he wants to speak to her in private. He doesn’t understand.

“Just you and me,” she says, “like when you came to visit me at my office.”

Jensen isn’t sure mommy would like it, and surely Laina is some kind of magician because she adds, “Your mom won’t get mad, I swear.”

“It’s okay, baby, you can talk, I’ll wait right outside,” Mommy tells him; although Jensen is not sure he believes her because her face kind of looks mad, he's still relieved. A little.

When she walks out of the room, Laina gets closer. She smiles at him, a real smile, not like Mom’s fake ones that make him feel so uncomfortable sometimes.

“Jensen?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I know what’s going on. I don’t want to upset you, you don’t even have to answer me. Just nod if you think I’m right.”

Jensen nods eagerly. He wants to know what’s going on, desperately. He’s tired of feeling so bad.

“I think,” Laina says slowly, taking Jensen’s hand in her. “I think you’re very upset because you miss Jared. “

Jensen wants to nod, he does. Instead, what happens is that he starts shaking all over, so hard it hurts. Laina whispers to him to let it go, that it’s okay to be upset and not to fight it. He’s not sure he understands.

“Sometimes, people can be so upset it makes them sick because they don’t know how to tell, or they don’t understand why they feel so bad.”

Jensen nods as hard as he can. He’s still shaking. 

“And your mom, all she wants is for you to be happy, you know? Maybe she didn’t understand that Jared is very, very important to you. It happens sometimes.”

Jensen nods again. He’s crying and hiccupping and it feels good, although he can’t quite understand why. Laina takes a tissue from the box on the table and cleans his face, then helps him blow his nose. She tells him he’s a very brave boy and he’s going to feel better soon, even if it’s hard to believe right now. Her voice is soothing, like a lullaby, like Jared’s voice in the dark basement. Jensen wants to go to sleep again.

And he does.

::: :::

Jared is there, standing in the doorway, smiling and looking excited, although maybe a little upset too. As soon as Mommy sees him, she walks outside the room. Jensen sits up in bed and says Jared’s name, his voice scratchy from all the crying earlier. 

“Hi,” Jared says.

He doesn’t wait another second to get close and take off his shoes. He climbs over the bedrail while Jensen moves to make space for him. Jensen knows he’s smiling because it hurts, like his smile wants to get even bigger but just can’t. 

“I’m sorry you’re sick,” Jared says.

He lies down and waits for Jensen to tuck himself as close as he can, just like they had done so many times before. Someone is yelling outside the room, and there are other angry voices, although they’re not as loud. Jensen thinks the screaming might come from his mommy, but he doesn’t care. He’s close to Jared and that’s all that matters. 

“I missed you, he croaks.

“Yeah, me too,” Jared says, and his voice is trembling a little. “But it’s okay now.”

“Mom doesn’t want me to see you -she said it’s because of the bad things that happened to me. I want to see you, Jared, you’re my friend,” Jensen talks quickly, like the words have been waiting to get out for a long time, trapped in his throat, and now they won’t stop. “I missed you, I got Legos for Christmas. Mom is mean, I want to see you and play with you and she said no, she said no, Jared and and and-“

“It’s okay,” Jared tells him. “We’re friends. My mom will speak to your mom and she’ll understand, I swear.”

He looks so confident and determined, like people outside aren’t fighting, and Jensen might be a little kid but he knows it’s about him. Still, Jared tells the truth, Jensen can see it in his eyes. Jared can make it better, even if Mom isn’t okay with it, or anyone really.

They don’t talk much. Jensen just wants to be close to Jared. Jared seems okay with it.

::: :::

Laina doesn’t come back, but Jensen thinks maybe it’s because a nurse got him another Jell-O after Jared left and he could eat it: there is no lump in his throat anymore. Afterward, he munches on two cookies. His tummy hurts a little, but it’s okay, it’s not that bad.

Mom is very pale, and she doesn’t even try to smile. She runs her fingers in Jensen’s hair and tells him he’s a good boy, she loves him, and that he shouldn’t scare her like that.

“I talked to Jared’s parents, baby,” she adds. “And I think maybe you could visit him, sometimes. Mom could drop you off and you could spend time with him.”

Jensen freezes, his mouth half-full. What doesn’t it sound like good news? Why does mommy sounds like it hurts to say this, just like it hurt for Jensen to try to speak of Jared?

“I love you, mommy,” he says because maybe, just maybe, this can fix things between them.

Mom makes a strange sound low in her throat, then she kisses Jensen’s forehead.

“Yeah, me too, sweetheart. And you’re gonna eat and get better.”

“Laina said yes.”

“You know what?” Mommy whispers, like she’s telling a secret. “We don’t need Laina. You can visit Jared without Laina, right?”

It doesn’t sound good because Jensen likes Laina a lot, but then, if he still gets to see Jared, he can maybe try not to be upset. If he’s upset, Mommy is going to be upset too, and maybe she’ll decide it wasn’t a good idea after all, visiting Jared. This can’t happen.

“Yes,” Jensen says, trying to sound happy. “We don’t need Laina.”

He swallows hard and for a second, he thinks the cookie bite will stay stuck in his throat, but it goes down.

::: :::

Jensen is allowed to come home the next day. He’s still a little dizzy, but he does feel better. He doesn’t want to ask mom about when he’s going to see Jared, because he’s scared that maybe she changed her mind. He prefers to act like everything is good and right in the world. Whenever his head plays tricks with him and wants to remind him that his mother could decide he doesn’t need Jared, just like he doesn’t need Laina, Jensen doesn’t let it. He sings a song inside his head very loud so that it can shut the voice down.

In the evening, Mom tucks him into bed and reads a story to him. Then, she takes a deep breath and sighs. “So, if you’re good and eat everything Mommy gives you, you could visit Jared this weekend. Saturday afternoon, what do you think?”

“Yes,” Jensen answers, a little too quickly, and it makes mommy’s face go all sad.

He tries not to smile. He thinks it would make her even sadder.

“You’re a good boy,” Mommy tells him. “I love you, baby.”

::: :::

Jared’s house is huge. It’s snowing, and Jensen wears his winter pants. He’s so eager to see Jared that he starts running toward him and falls face first in the snow. His mom asks him from the car if he’s okay, but he is, really. He laughs and turns clumsily on his belly. Jared and his mom watch him from the porch. Jared calls his name. “Jensen, did you hurt yourself?”

“No, m’fine. It’s fun,” Jensen replies playfully, trying to stand up without falling all over again.

“I’ll come back to get him at four thirty,” his mommy tells Jared’s mom.

“It’s fine. Come on, Jensen, you can come in.”

“Jared, where is your dog?”

“Inside,” Jared answers. He looks as excited as Jensen. 

Jared’s mom bends down and hugs him. It doesn’t feel bad. She’s a nice lady.

“Welcome, Jensen,” she tells him.

There is a lot of stuff going on in Jared’s house. First, he has a dad. Jensen knew it, of course, he already met Jared’s dad, but sometimes he forgets that not all kids live just with their mommy. Jared has a big brother, Jeff, and he’s even taller than Jared, but he seems nice too. Jensen had already seen Meggie because sometimes Jared’s mom takes her with when he goes to see Laina. Meggie is walking and drooling and making funny eyes at Jensen. She smells good, like a baby. Jensen wishes suddenly he wouldn’t be alone with his mom all the time. 

The most wonderful thing, though, is Jared’s dog, Blue. She jumps all around Jensen and licks his hand, and although Jared keeps telling her to calm down, Jensen doesn’t want her to. He sits and even let her licks his face. It tickles. Jensen falls backward on the living room carpet and laughs while Blue yelps excitedly at him, wiggling her tail until Jeff takes her away and calls her silly.

Jared takes Jensen to his room and shows him all of his toys. They play for a while with Jared’s GI Joes and Ninja Turtles, and then Jared’s mom brings them cookies on a plate and glasses of milk. Jensen is hungry. He shoves half a cookie in his mouth, making Jared laugh. They eat in silence for a few minutes, sitting on Jared’s bed. Then Jensen sighs, puts his glass on the floor and settles himself close to Jared, letting his head rest on his shoulder. Jensen feels good. His stomach is full, he’s with his friend, and he’s safe. He knows it.

“You’ll come back next week, right?” Jared asks. “Your mom told my mom that once a week would be okay.”

“Yes.”

“We’ll get to do all sorts of fun stuff together. Like… Maybe Dad could take us to the cinema next week, or maybe ice skating. I got new skates for Christmas.”

Jared keeps on talking and Jensen nods, relishing in the familiarity of his friend’s voice. Even if they don’t get to do anything else than seeing each other, Jensen would be okay with it. He’s just happy to be there.

::: :::

It becomes a routine. Every Saturday, Jensen gets to spend some time with Jared. His mom never gets out of the car when she drops him off or comes to get him, and Jared is never invited to Jensen’s house. Jensen doesn’t really care. 

Every day, he wishes life would be as easy as it is when he visits his friend. School is still hard; Jensen doesn’t want to makes friends with the others, doesn’t know how to anyway. He’s very alone. Some kids have started to make fun of him, and even though Mrs. Reitman gets mad at them, they keep doing it. 

Back home, it’s not really any better. It’s like Mom doesn’t want him anymore. She tells him she loves him, takes care of him, sometimes even plays games and watches TV with him, but it’s not the same. It's not even the same as it was after Jensen and Jared were taken out of the bad man’s house. It changed when Jensen hadn’t been able to eat. 

He doesn’t know what he did wrong, he doesn’t understand. Maybe Mom is scared Jensen loves Jared more than her. And maybe it’s true, a little. It makes Jensen feels really bad, because you’re supposed to love your mom more than anything, right? He tries to tell her everyday, but it doesn’t change. Mom always looks sad, even when she pretends she's not. Jensen is not a baby anymore. He knows sometimes people lie.

When it gets to be too much, Jensen locks himself in his closet and bites his lips. Sometimes there’s even blood. Or he tugs on his hair, hard, and it hurts, but it feels good at the same time, because if Jensen can’t bring himself to love his mommy as he used to, he deserves to be punished, even if he’s the one doing the punishment. It counts.

Sometimes, Mom proposes doing something together on Saturdays, instead of Jensen visiting Jared. He always feels very anxious when she does that, and his heart starts pounding hard in his chest, like it wants to burst out. Jensen knows he has to tell her, to say: “no, I want to go see Jared.” It’s always very hard and feels like the words will stay stuck in his throat like before, but he does it.

It would be worse if he couldn’t say it, and then miss the few hours he gets to see Jared every week. It makes his mommy upset, and then she’s silent and acts like Jensen isn’t even there, but Jensen is beginning to think that mom is going to be upset anyway, and that there is nothing he can do to change it.

In Jensen’s memories, everything is kind of grey and heavy, like the sky just before a big thunderstorm, and Jared’s home is sticking out in shiny colours and warm sensations. Jared is the sun, and Jensen can quietly expose himself to its rays, like a plant that has been away from the window for too long.


	3. Chapter 3

**Five years later**

It’s late spring in Providence, and it’s warm enough so that Jared and Jeff can play catch outside wearing only shorts and t-shirts. It’s nice. 

Jared keeps looking at his watch. Jensen is supposed to arrive any minute now. He had called yesterday, said he was grounded and couldn’t make it, but asked if he could come today, Sunday, instead. Being grounded happens a lot to Jensen, but he doesn’t seem to care.

Jared does, especially when he’s forbidden to come over.

“Jay, come on, or I’mma knock you down with my next throw.”

“You wish,” Jared replies automatically. He’s used to being teased by Jeff. It never gets really mean anyway. Jeff is now sixteen, and he’s huge compared to Jared, who’s all clumsy and thin and looks like his arms will never stop growing until he transforms into an ape.

Jeff would never say something like this, though. He keeps saying Jared doesn’t have to take shit from anyone and he’s looking out for him, always has been. He was supposed to go to the mall with friends this afternoon, but when he’d seen Jared brooding on the porch, waiting for Jensen to arrive, he told Mike he would join him later, even though Jared protested. “Hey, we won’t do anything interesting, just look for cute girls and play a couple of arcade games. I need to practice my throw anyway, are you in?”

Jeff does this all the time -pretends he doesn’t have anything better to do other than spend time with his shy younger brother who never wants to go out and play, who prefers to stay quietly at home reading or playing video games. 

Jared knows he’s lucky as hell to have a brother like that. He doesn’t tell Jeff that he doesn’t really need protection, or to be cared for. It would hurt him, and that’s the last thing Jared wants to do. He knows he’s not exactly like other twelve years olds, and he doesn’t care. He has a couple of friends, a supportive family that accepts him just the way he is, and he’s content. 

Then there is Jensen; even though he has changed a lot in the last months, he’s still the most important person in the world for Jared. Alaina says that changing is normal. They're growing up. Since she hasn’t seen Jensen for five years, she says she only can guess what’s up with him by what Jared tells her. Jared still sees her twice a month. He can’t even imagine stopping. He still feels it’s useful.

“Jensen!” Meggie calls, coming out on the porch and letting Blue out at the same time. 

In a matter of seconds, Blue catches the ball Jeff had just thrown and is running to the backyard, her ears lowered on her head.

“Jesus, Meggie, you’re not supposed to let her out,” Jeff tells her, rolling his eyes.

“You said Jesus! You can’t say that, it’s a bad word,” Megan replies. “Where’s Jensen?”

“He’s not here yet,” Jared says, grabbing Megan’s braid and tugging on it.

A seven year old sister is all kinds of annoying. Jared wonders if it’s just Meg that’s like this, always whining and needing attention, sticking her tongue at him when she thinks their parents won’t catch her and being a general pain in the ass.

And let’s not forget the way she always hangs around when Jensen comes to visit, always wanting to tell him what happened to her in school, or to show him her stupid little dance moves she learned at her ballet class. Like Jensen would be interested in any of what she has to say.

“Jared, let go,” she whines, pushing him away.

“You can go back inside, I told you Jensen’s not here.” Jared doesn’t want to sound mean, but he kind of does at the same time.

“Come on, Meggie, come help me catch Blue before she swallows my ball,” Jeff tells her.

She smiles at him and hops on his back. They disappear around the corner of the house, Megan’s silly laugh bursting out of her.

Jeff is always patient with her, as patient as he is with Jared. Jared is beginning to feel bad, and he’s about to join them when he hears the familiar rumble of Mrs. Ackles’ car. Like always, Jared forgets about everything else and feels his heartbeat pick up. Some things never change.

Mrs. Ackles doesn’t even drive into the driveway. She stops by the side of the street and stares right in front of her, not even acknowledging Jared’s presence. He’s used to it by now. Jensen’s mother never liked him, who knows why.

Jensen shuts the car door with much more strength than is needed and walks away without saying anything to his mother, looking broody and sad, dragging his backpack along. He’s only ten, and way smaller than Jared, but lately, it’s like he’s grown _older_. He gets in trouble at school, says mean things about his mom, his teachers, and the kids in his class. Last time he came, he had a pack with two cigarettes left in it and had asked Jared if he wanted to try one.

Jared had said no. He hadn’t been so horrified by the cigarettes themselves because he’s twelve years old, and he knows a lot of teenagers sometimes try this, or pot, or even alcohol. What had bothered him was that Jensen was only ten and he was acting like some fourteen year olds back at Jared’s school. Seeing his reaction, Jensen had put the cigarettes back in his bag and had shrugged. “I found them. Didn’t even try myself. Thought maybe you’d find it cool.”

“No, it’s not cool. I don’t want you to smoke, you could get in trouble.”

Jensen had smiled a little. “I’m always in trouble,” he’d said like it was something he should be proud of.

“Hey, Jensen!” Jared calls, and his friend’s face lightens up a little. They don’t run toward each other and hold hands like they used to do when they were little. Things change. They grow up, like Alaina always says. They express their friendship differently now.

It’s silly, but sometimes Jared wishes they could go back to that, when they were younger and everything with Jensen was simpler.

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t make it yesterday,” Jensen tells him. “Mom was in a bad mood. She can be such a pain in the ass sometimes.”

Jared nods, like he understands, although he doesn’t really. He would never think of his mother as being a pain in the ass. Then again, Jensen’s mother is… special. Jared wouldn’t trade places with him.

“What do you want to do?” he asks.

“Biking, wanna go to that place you took me the other day.”

“Alright.”

First, they go inside so that Jensen can say hi to Jared’s parents. They grab a bag of chips and some sodas. Jared’s mom tells them twice to be careful, and then they’re off, Jensen on Jared’s old bike, Jared on his new one. It stills look just like it did at the store, not a scuff on its shiny paint. Jared doesn’t use it a lot, except when Jensen is there, or his mom insists he needs the exercise.

A couple of streets away from where Jared lives is a small wooded area with paths made for mountain biking and hiking. Jensen and he didn’t go far last time. They had found a large flat rock under the cover of trees, and had sat there for the most part of the afternoon. This time doesn’t seem any different, because Jensen takes the lead and bikes through the trees, stopping the bike near the same rock and letting it fall on the ground. Jared is slower. When he gets off and joins his friend, Jensen’s already sitting, following a couple of ants running through the cracks of the rock with his index finger.

“You wanna eat the chips now?”

“Not that hungry,” Jensen frowns. “You can go ahead.”

“No, s’okay. Hey, you know my friend Felicia? She’s in the hospital. Broke her arm.”

Jared is used to talking when Jensen comes to visit. Jensen is always quiet at first, like he needs some time to feel comfortable with Jared again. It’s okay. Jared babbles about everything that’s happened to him during the week, stories he thinks Jensen would like. Jensen has met Felicia once and they got along well, so Jared tells him how Fel had tried her brother’s skateboard and had headed down the street, going faster and faster until she’d been thrown off. Jared had been there. Felicia had gotten up, bleeding from both knees and with her right arm all twisted and wrong. She hadn’t realized it at first, mostly preoccupied by the blood, but Jared had seen it and had pointed her arm to her. Felicia’s face had become slack and her eyes had rolled back. Jared had made her sit on the sidewalk while he ran to the house to warn her mom.

“She had to have surgery, and now she’s got a small metal plate inside her arm. It will always stay there.”

“She must have cried a lot,” Jensen says, scratching at an old scab on his arm.

“Yes, a little, but she made me swear not to tell.”

Jensen sighs and licks the small blood drop on his arm. “I’m moving away.”

“What?” 

“My mom lost her job at the clinic. She decided we should move to stay with my gran.”

Jared feels like a cold, heavy stone just dropped in his stomach. He swallows hard. “Your granny in Vermont?”

“Yeah.” Jensen smiles and sniffs. He’s anxious, Jared can tell; he always does this nervous sniffing thing when he feels anxious. “She told me yesterday, and I got angry and yelled at her, and that’s why I couldn’t come.”

“When are you moving?”

“When school will be over.”

Jared waits for the rest. He doesn’t trust himself to talk without crying, and he can’t allow it. He’s twelve, not a kid anymore. He can’t go on crying whenever he’s sad.

“It’s not that far from Rhode Island,” Jensen adds. “We can still see each other sometime. Mom said I could. Only… not as often.”

“It sucks,” Jared's voice drops.

“I hate her,” Jensen whispers. 

He follows another ant with his finger and crushes it suddenly, then hits the hard rock with the palm of his hand.

“Well, maybe she doesn’t have a choice.”

“You keep defending her,” Jensen replies. “You know how she is. She never wanted me to see you in the first place. She doesn’t like you, or your family, and I don’t know why, and it’s like all she wants is for me to be mad at her.”

“I’m sorry, Jensen,” Jared tells him because this time, he doesn’t feel like defending Jensen’s mother anymore. True, she's always made it difficult for him and Jensen to see each other. Once, Jared heard his parents talking about it. His mom had been mad. It was just before that camping trip last year when they had wanted to invite Jensen to come along with them. Mrs. Ackles had said yes at the end, but it had been a close call. 

“I don’t understand her, it’s like she thinks Jared is responsible for the abduction and the abuse. It makes me want to yell at her sometimes. They have a special bond, we can’t even begin to understand it. Does she even realize what she’s putting her own son through?” Sherry Padalecki had spit.

Then, Jared’s father had told her to calm down, but Jared had heard enough to feel angry and upset. The idea of being disliked for something so horrible that had happened to him was more than he could bear. He had spoken about it with Alaina at their next session. 

“Jared, it’s not that simple. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Donna Ackles, but you have to understand that she does love her son, very deeply. She associates you with the terrible events you both have been through, that’s all. She would like for Jensen to move on and forget about it.”

Jared can’t even begin to understand what that means. All that he knows is that Jensen and him are friends, and he can’t get past this: why would a mom forbid a friendship that’s so important?

And now, Mrs. Ackles is doing something way much worse than making it difficult. She’s taking Jensen away.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Jensen declares. “Can you give me a soda?”

Jared opens his bag. They share sodas and chips. They don’t talk much.

::: :::

Jensen’s last visit before the move is a sad one. He’s allowed to sleep over, which rarely happens, and although Jared’s mom does everything she can for this visit to be special, there’s a sense of dread floating in the air that no one can overcome. Jensen is silent and broody, despite Jared’s efforts to make him laugh. 

During the night, Jared wakes up to go to the bathroom and he finds Jensen wide awake, sitting on his desk and staring out the window. “Do you still dream about him sometimes?” Jensen asks.

Jared knows what he means, of course he does. They rarely speak about Benton Glass. It’s difficult for the both of them.

“Yeah, all the time,” he answers frankly.

“I didn’t, for a long time,” Jensen murmurs. “And now it’s starting again. I didn’t think I remembered his face well, but I do.”

Jared does too. The bald head with the heavy eyebrows, the jutting lower lip, the round cheeks, and the small, always moving dark eyes. He feels like he’s going to puke.

In his memory, Glass was huge. He doesn’t know if it’s because he was so small himself at the time, and he'll never find out. Glass, known as The Monster of Rhode Island, is in prison and is to be forgotten. 

“He called me his little angel,” Jensen croaks, and he sounds like he’s crying. “I always dream of his voice repeating it. Little angel.”

“He’s in jail, won’t ever get out,” Jared tells him.

“Yeah, I know.” Jensen sniffs and rubs his eyes with the palm of his hands. “I just wish he would leave me alone when I’m asleep.”

“That’d be nice,” Jared agrees. “You comin’ back to bed?”

“Yeah. You think… Maybe we could share yours? Just for this time?” 

Jensen sounds ashamed to ask. He usually sleeps on an air mattress at the foot of Jared’s bed. Jared really doesn’t mind. Maybe just for this one time they can act as scared little kids, just like before.

“Don’t take all the covers,” he jokes, trying to alleviate the tension in the air.

“Shut up.” Jensen’s smile can be heard in his voice. He drops onto the mattress and hits Jared with his elbow, trying to take up the entire space. Jared fights back and tries to push him off the bed, then he farts under the covers, a very loud one, and Jensen laughs so hard he can’t even speak anymore and starts hiccupping, which makes Jared giggle uncontrollably. His father has to come to warn them to be quiet.

It’s almost morning when they finally fall asleep. When Jared wakes up, Jensen’s head is resting on his chest and they’re holding hands, just like before. Jared stays very still for a long time and tries not to cry.

::: :::

Things change. That’s one of Alaina’s favorite sentences. _Things change around you, Jared, and for most of it, you’ve got little to no control. You like being in control, and that’s normal. You’re still dealing with the aftermath of what happened to you. I know it was a long time ago, but by now, I know you realize that it will always be with you._

It doesn’t mean Jared has to accept it easily. For the first time in five years, he doesn’t get to see Jensen for six months in a row. They talk on the phone, send each other emails, but it isn’t the same. 

Jensen has his mom's permission to come spend a couple of days during the Christmas holidays. His mother sends him on a bus, which gets Jared’s mom so upset his father has to calm her down so that she doesn’t scare Meggie. Jared doesn’t really get what’s so terrible about it. Buses aren’t safe, his mom says. Greyhound doesn’t give a shit about its passengers, she says.

They wait nervously at the bus station, even though Jensen had taken his mother’s cell phone and called once to say he was okay.

He's changed in six months, and looks even more serious and withdrawn than before. Seeing Jared, he smiles almost shyly and tells him he’s going to grow to be a giant. Jared shrugs. He has been dealing with his own problems lately, and the fact that he seems to be on an never-ending growth spurt is the least of his worries.

Puberty is a bitch. Jared sometimes wakes up hard in the morning, or with his sheets stained and his balls still throbbing. He doesn’t know what to do about it. It leaves him ashamed, disgusted with himself, and he wishes he could just forget that part of his body.

He can’t even bring himself to talk about this with Alaina. He doesn’t especially want to share this with Jensen either. They have a lot to catch on. All of Jensen’s emails were about how his new school sucked, and living with his granny sucked, and how the small town of Underhill is a shitty place to stay. 

This time, it takes Jensen most of the first day to get comfortable enough to participate in the conversation. Then it’s better, even if there aren’t a lot of positive things he has to say. Jared works hard for them to have a good time, though, and he thinks he succeeded.

On the day Jensen has to take the bus back to Vermont, though, it’s another game entirely. They’re in Jared’s room, and Jensen piles up his things in his bag, shoving them with way more strength than necessary.

“I don’t wanna go back,” he mumbles. “Shit, I don’t want to go back. It fucking sucks.”

And yes, Jared might be a little shocked by his friend’s language, but he doesn’t show it. He missed Jensen. A lot. He too wishes he didn’t have to go.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, it sucks.”

“Who knows when she’ll allow me to visit again. And now my granny’s on my back too.”

“Is your mom looking for another job? Aren’t you guys supposed to find your own place to stay then?”

“No.” Jensen zips his back pack and throws it against the door. “Mom says gran needs us now because she has diabetes and she’s getting old, but that’s bullshit.”

Jensen is agitated and Jared is at loss as to how to get him to calm down. Jensen continues, “I can’t do anything ‘cause I’m just a freaking kid, and she doesn’t care. Doesn’t care at all about what I want.”

He drags the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow and starts scratching at what appear to be a series of old, small cuts, some still covered with scabs. It’s strange: they’re lined up very neatly, one upon the other. 

“Hey, did you hurt yourself?” 

Jensen seems to realize what he's doing and blushes violently, lowering his sleeve. “That’s nothing, it’s better now.”

“But-“

“We’re going to be late,” Jensen cuts him off. 

Jared thinks about the small, neat cuts for a long time after Jensen is gone. He knows some people like to hurt themselves, and the thought that Jensen could be doing this to himself is making him sick to his stomach. He speaks about it with Alaina who looks as worried as he does. 

“I’d like to help you, Jared, I really do, but Jensen isn’t my patient anymore. What you can do, though, is try to make him talk about it. You guys talk on the phone and on the internet, right? Maybe you’re interpreting this the wrong way, have you thought about it?”

It’s easier to ask this kind of question via email. Jared is still nervous when he’s about to hit the “send” button.

Jensen sends him back an emoticon rolling its eyes. “I’d never do that. Relax. I hurt myself with this tool at school, in the carpentry class.”

Jared’s got no clue as to what kind of tool can cause the kind of wound he saw, but if Jensen says that’s what happened, he has no reason not to believe him. They’ve always been frank with each other.

Jared doesn’t see Jensen until Easter, then summer comes and his friend is allowed to spend a whole week with Jared’s family. That summer, he looks better. Maybe he got used to his new life in Vermont, maybe things are really getting better with his mom.

There’s something else, though. Jared senses a new distance between them. Jared thinks maybe it’s the fact that they don’t see each other as often as they used to. Maybe it’s his own fault. Jensen doesn’t talk anymore about how things are back home, even in his emails and phone calls. There are no more commentaries about his mother, or his school, or anything that used to make him upset. He speaks mostly about little things, like this skateboard he bought, or the new band he loves. He’s cheerful, although it’s a nervous cheerfulness. 

Things have definitely changed, though, and Jared has to adjust. It’s okay, he keeps telling himself. They’re both growing up, putting the past behind them. Alaina helps Jared coming to terms with it. He has his own life to live, too. Does he think about the future? What does he want to do, how he’s seeing himself in ten years from now? Jared doesn’t know what to say. “You have to start thinking about you as a whole individual, not only as Jensen’s friend. I’m not saying he shouldn’t be important for you. I’m saying you can’t live his life. You have to let go a little. What about you, Jared Padalecki, almost fourteen years old? Who are you?”

He’s him, that’s all. He’s his parent’s son, his brother and sister's sibling. He’s Jensen's friend. Can’t this be enough?

::: :::

When Jared is fifteen, Alaina wants him to see another psychologist. He feels rejected and scared as hell, but she tries her best to reassure him. The man she's thinking about referring Jared to is a good psychiatrist and a psychologist. Misha Collins is the kind of man who wears a double hat so that he can care for his patients in all aspects of their mental health. He’s used to taking Alaina’s cases when the kids she cares for are growing into adulthood, and don’t need a psychologist specializing in children anymore, although they still need follow-up and even therapy. Jared still can’t wrap his head around it. Alaina reassures him that she won’t let him down. Maybe, she suggests gently, he should think about it. There are some issues she misses the competency to help Jared with.

He knows she’s referring to his puberty problems, and it makes him ashamed, although he’s sure Alaina would never judge him.

See, the thing is… Jared still hates the fact that he gets hard sometimes, even though it rarely happens now. He’s never been able to experience physical pleasure, and has no interest in it. At his age, some guys already have girlfriends, or are seriously starting to think about it, bringing skin mags to school or whispering between them about how hot a girl is. Jared can’t even bring himself to show interest. He sees the kids from school like familiar figures, others are friends, but none of them, boy or girl, trigger that little spark in him that should drive him to have the same ideas and desires as the others. Alaina says maybe he just needs some more time. The sexual abuse he has suffered can make it difficult for him to feel sexual desire. It frustrates Jared -not that he can’t be normal in this aspect of his life, but that he has to care about it at all. He doesn’t want to jerk himself off, doesn’t want to kiss a girl –or a boy. He doesn’t see the appeal.

Alaina says they can wait another year before thinking of transferring Jared to her colleague. He’s okay with it. After all, he only sees her once a month now, even though he still feels he needs it.

He only sees Jensen once that year. He comes to visit in the summer, showing off the piercing he now has in his right nostril. “Your mom let you do it?” Jared asks, impressed. 

“No, but I did it anyway,” Jensen shrugs. He’s thirteen, is going through Jared’s too-long arm phase by then. He’s skinny, his blond hair is a little darker and he’s still way shorter than Jared. He smokes cigarettes when they’re both alone. 

They don’t write to each other as often as they used to. Things change. Jared is busy with school and his friends. Busy living his own life. Jensen has tales about how he got suspended from telling one of his teachers to shut up or how he sneaks out of his room sometimes at night to meet some friend at the park nearby. He’s learning how to draw graffiti.

Jared wonders when exactly they’ve become so estrange to each other.


	4. Chapter 4

Jared graduates with honors at seventeen. It’s been a year and a half since he last saw Jensen. They still talk on the internet, even if it’s barely once a month. Jensen has had some trouble at school and was brought to the attention of a social worker. He even had to do some community work, after he’d been caught drawing graffiti on a wall of his high school. That’s why he hasn’t been able to visit in the past few months.

Jared worries about him, even though he tries to tamp it down. Tries to live his own life. “Jensen isn’t the five years old trapped with you in that basement anymore,” Alaina had told him. “Seriously, Jared, you have to let him go.”

Jared tries. On his graduation day, he celebrates with Felicia as they throw their mortarboards in the air. They both have been accepted at their first choice, Brown University, majoring in computer science. Jared hadn’t wanted to be away from home during college. That’s where he feels safe. Felicia had tried to coax him into applying to an out-of-state college, but in the end, her own parents had decided that it was less expensive to have her close, and Jared couldn’t have been happier. He just can’t imagine his life without Felicia. 

As they hug each other and step away from the stage, though, Jared feels something hurting inside him. He still feels that Jensen a very important part of his life, and his absence on such an important day for Jared is weighing on his shoulders. His parents and Meg (and Jeff, through his cell phone from California where he studies) surround and congratulate him. Even Blue attended the graduation. She’s a quiet old dog now, but she licks Jared’s face and wiggles her tail a little. He pets her head softly, suddenly thinking about Jensen meeting her for the first time and rolling on the floor with her, laughing out loud and clear.

Jared swallows down the lump in his throat. This is a good day. He should be happy. He’s supposed to go out with Fel and a couple of friends later to have some pizza. Jared is still not the party kind of guy, and his friends respect it.

“Hey, Jared,” his mom calls. 

He’s still crouching on the ground with Blue.

“What?”

His mom is smiling, pointing through the crowd of parents. Jared takes a look and sees Jensen making his way through it, taller than he remembers, different too. The tips of his hair is tinted blue, he now has several piercings in each ear, and wears army supply clothes with black, tall boots. When he smiles, though, it’s still Jensen. Jared doesn’t care at all what he looks like. He’s so damn happy to see him, he kind of runs to meet him halfway and grabs him in his arms, hugging him tight. Jensen smells of tobacco and marijuana. He laughs nervously, shakes against Jared’s own body.

“A damn giant, I’m telling you.” Jensen mumbles, patting Jared’s back.

“Man, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it.”

“When did you arrive?”

“This morning.”

Jared pulls away from the hug and takes Jensen by the shoulders. “So what, you’re some kind of rebellious skinhead, now?”

“Ha, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jensen smiles back. “Nerd.”

“Fuck you,” Jared laughs. “No, seriously, you took the bus?”

“Nope. Hitchhiked.”

“You did what?”

Jensen points the duffle that’s resting at his feet. “Yep, like a grownup. Didn’t have the money to take the bus.”

“It’s dangerous, man.”

“Look, I’m here, and I know for a fact that you have a car, according to the pics you sent me –nothing but a trashcan with wheels, but why don’t we go for a ride?

“Hey, my car is awesome, you’re just jealous!”

“Yeah, whatever.”

It takes some time before they can be alone. All of Jared’s family wants to say hi to Jensen, then Jared has to assure Felicia that yes, he’ll join her and their friends at the pizza place in the evening. Jensen is invited. He shrugs. “Maybe. I’ll see.”

Jared had taken off his graduation robe and hat, leaving it with his parents. He settles behind the wheel of his maybe ugly, but working, car and smiles at Jensen. It’s a beautiful day; Jared is still riding high on the fact that he’d been accepted to college, that he’s a graduate, and that Jensen is there, with him. He slides sunglasses on his nose and asks with a playful voice, “Where to, babe?”

Jensen bursts out laughing. “Anywhere you want.”

They drive through town, talking. Jensen seems a bit nervous and on edge. Sometimes, when he thinks Jared isn't looking at him, his expression shift to a serious, almost tense one, and in those short moments he looks older, older than Jared even. Tired.

They talk. Jared speaks about his and Felicia’s project of creating an app while in college, about Jeff getting married in December, about Megan, who’s still a pain in the ass. Jensen talks about a couple of friends he has, not from school, but with whom he sometimes plays music. He wants to save enough money to buy a guitar. He doesn’t say much about his mother, just sarcastically pointing that she’s still her good old self. Last year, she’d met a man, and Jensen had thought that maybe she would get off his back, being occupied with someone else, but it didn't last. As for his grandmother, she keeps trying to take him to church and making comments about Jensen’s disgraceful appearance.

“Can’t wait to be old enough to get away. Got enough of fucking Underhill for a lifetime,” Jensen sighs, his booted feet resting on the car’s dashboard. He takes a cigarette out of his bag and asks if it’s okay to smoke. Jared nods. Whatever Jensen wants, he’s just happy to see him.

“Hungry?” Jared asks, trying to take Jensen away from his not-so-pleasant thoughts.

“Nah, I can wait for the pizza,”

“Wanna come home for a little while, then?”

Jensen clears his throat and turns his head toward the window. When he speaks, his voice is unsure. “Actually… I thought maybe we could… shit. Forget it.”

“What? Come on, tell me, man.”

“The… Did you know the TV show _True Crime_ made a whole hour about Benton Glass and our kidnapping last month?”

Jared’s hands tense on the wheel despite himself. If he knows? The producer of the show had called home several times, asking for his parents –or even Jared- to be interviewed for the show. They had refused, of course. It had made Jared’s mom angrier than he’d seen her in a long time, and when the show aired, they went out to a restaurant, then the cinema, like Jared wouldn’t have been able to get away from the TV and watching it. That’s the last thing he would’ve done. He tells Jensen that much, surprised by his friend’s answer.

“Watched it. I don’t even know if that producer of yours called my mom –she didn’t tell me anyway. So that evening I watched it in my room.”

“Fuck, Jensen, why would you do that?”

Jensen sniffs and shrugs. “I… couldn’t help myself. I needed to… Shit, it’s hard to explain. Wish I hadn’t, though. They kept showing those pictures of me and you –the ones that were everywhere when we were abducted, and also, those other two boys: Tommy McIntyre and Joshua Roberts. I… I was so young, Jared. I never knew there had been others before us, and that they had died.”

Jared swallows, hard. It seems like the feeling he’s had so far, the impression that this would be a perfect, beautiful day has suddenly shifted. As he keeps driving through the town, it’s as if Providence is showing its ugly side, like in those H.P. Lovecraft stories. Clouds have started to gather, covering the blue skies, toning down the brightness of the sun.

“I knew,” he whispers.

“Well, my mom never talked about this with me. Got used to it, tried not to think about it. I never… fuck, I didn’t even know where Glass was serving his sentence.”

“So what?” Jared doesn’t want to sound defensive, but he does. “What good can come out of this… knowing more, what does it change?”

“Don’t tell me what to think and what I should do,” Jensen snaps. “You don’t know how it was when I was younger and my mom wanted me to pretend that nothing happened. Your family… they were supportive of you… Hell, you’re still seeing Alaina after all these years. But me, I never… I never had anyone helping me to get through this!”

Jensen’s words hit Jared hard, because he’s right. And maybe Jared doesn’t feel like talking about the freaking monster that abused them sexually, but he can’t just shut Jensen up with meaningless sentences. Jensen has been raised in a different way than he was, and maybe this is something he needs because he was never allowed to work on his issues. His mother never brought him to see another psychologist after Alaina, she never accepted what had happened to her son. At least, that’s what Jared’s mother had said. And as far as Jared’s concerned, she’s right.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m just… “

“Scared?” Jensen laughs without a hint of joy. “Because, Jay, I still am. Still freaking scared of him and just… Just seeing his face in the documentary, it was like I was five and on that mattress all over again.”

“Yeah,” Jared agrees. He tries not to think of Glass, but his memories are getting the best of him. What he remembers the most are his eyes, small and dark and squinting in his heavy, large face. And his voice, raspy, tone too soft. 

A sudden nausea flips his stomach upside down, and he slows down the car until he can park at the side of the street. There are more clouds now, big, dark blue ones, covering the sun completely.

He’s sweating. He can feel it, dripping down his neck and back, making his shirt cling to his body. He takes deep breaths until his stomach settles down. All this time, Jensen looks at him in silence, biting the nail of his thumb.

“I’m… Sorry. I’m ruining your big day,” he finally says. “I shouldn’t have bothered you with this.”

“No, it’s alright. It’s been a long time since I really thought about Glass, that’s all. I mean… I still dream about him sometimes but-“

Jared shrugs. It’s hard to explain.

“I wanted to go see the farm,” Jensen murmurs. “I… I don’t remember anything of this place except from the basement and the white room. And in the TV show, they kept showing those distorted camera plans of it, you know… colours inverted like a negative, or shaky cam, zooming quickly and always moving and… It got me angry. I realized I never knew what it looked like, where we were abducted and kept for all those months.”

“You want to see the Glass farm? That’s where you want to go?” Jared asks in disbelief.

“It was a bad idea, I’m sorry,” Jensen says quickly. “Listen, I can go on my own, you don’t have to endure this on your graduation day. It’s something I need to do. I have no right to drag you with me.”

Jared tries to get used to the idea. The Glass farm is located on the outskirts of town. It’s been abandoned ever since Benton Glass was arrested. Jared knows he had a daughter that was living with her mother at the time of the abductions, and that none of them had wanted the old farm –who can blame them really? They had left Rhode Island shortly after the trial, and had tried to sell the farm but never succeeded.

It’s a good forty minute drive. The Glass farm is deep in the country, at the end of a back wood road. Jared remembers because his parents used to talk about the place, his father saying he was glad it was too far for kids looking for a thrill to get there easily, and his mother saying it should be torn down.

Jared doesn’t know if he could drive up there without getting lost. It’s only then that he realizes he’s going to do it, going to find this place with Jensen, because his friend has asked him, and that he can’t do this on his own, without a car.

Jared won’t let him be alone in the place where their childhood had turned into a never-ending ending nightmare.

“I’m not sure I can find it,” he whispers uneasily.

“You don’t have to. Really,” Jensen says quickly. He looks so upset and apologetic. He’s a kid, barely fifteen, despite the clothes and the piercings, despite the expression in his eyes that tell that he’s already been through enough shit for a lifetime. 

He’s still the little boy Jared used to rock to sleep in that dirty basement. 

“No, I want to do this,” Jared says with as much confidence as he can gather. “We’re in this together, always have been. Still, I know where the farm is located… vaguely, but I’m not sure I can get there without getting lost.”

Jensen rummages through his bag and gets a crumpled map out. “I wasn’t sure either, so I traced the way,” he says, showing Jared a thick line made with a red marker.

“Well, let’s go, then,” Jared says, getting the car into gear. 

“Jay, are you sure? Because-“

“I’m sure,” Jared cuts Jensen off. “We’re doing this. Together.”

Before they leave downtown Providence, Jared takes his cellphone out to call his parents. He’s never been that good of a liar, but he tries to sound natural as he tells his father that Jensen and him are going to hang around for a while, maybe grabbing something to eat.

“Be careful,” his father tells him, and it’s like he can read straight into Jared’s mind. 

He’s lucky his mother wasn’t the one to answer. It would have been worse trying to lie to her.

The drive is silent. Jared stops by a McDonald’s to buy himself a coffee. That’s his new addiction, coffee. He offers something to Jensen who orders a huge chocolate milkshake and drinks it compulsively, making loud slurping noises. Maybe it’s nervousness. Jared sure does feel nervous, swallowing his too-hot coffee in large gulps.

As they reach the outskirts of town, Jensen points to their right, where the asphalt stops and is replaced by an uneven dirt road.

“Fuck,” Jensen whispers. 

“Yeah,” Jared nods, turning the wheel and slowing down. 

The road is still muddy after a long winter, and full of water-filled holes. The trees on each side are twisted, the grass yellow and growing in uneven patches. It’s like they’re on their way to hell. Which is a strange thing to think about –not the good kind of strange.

“They were saying all this stuff about Glass on the TV show,” Jensen says very softly, like he’s afraid to break the silence. “Stuff I never knew. And I didn’t have any reason to know because I’m… Well, we were kids. Why should have I known all this? Still, it’s… it made him more human-like in my eyes. I’m not saying this in the good sense of the human word, but-“

“Yeah, I get it. Got the same impression when I asked Alaina some questions about him. S’like before, he was just, well, a monster, not someone who I could’ve imagine going through his everyday motions.”

“Exactly!” Jensen snaps his fingers. “Shit, the guy was a nurse. He’d go about his business caring for people, _helping_ them, and then come back home and abuse little boys.”

Jensen is shaking his head, his expression a mix of repugnance and disbelief.

Jared is about to add something when the woods around them suddenly open up, revealing a big, abandoned field with an old, wasting away farm in the middle of it. The paint, probably white originally, is almost completely peeled off, revealing grey, moldy wood. The house is long and low, with its one-story frame and almost flat slate roof. A barn that had been standing next to it is now crumbled in on itself from the middle of the roof. Behind the farm, a couple of acres of fields have been left to rot, wet soil disappearing under old and new ill weeds, even small trees.

Jared stops the car. The only time he’d ever seen the farm from the outside was when he’d been taken out by the medics and police. He remembers the brightness of the sun that had brought tears to his eyes, and turning back, looking at the house, nightmarish in his eyes with its door opened like a mouth that was ready to swallow him right back inside. 

The farm had seemed enormous back then. Not so much today. It’s just a small house, abandoned for so many years, forgotten.

“This is it,” Jensen whispers. 

Without waiting anymore, Jensen gets out of the car and starts walking toward the farm, a new wind that had risen blowing through his hair, making the bushes dancing around him as he cuts through them.

 _I don’t want to get out_ , Jared thinks. _I don’t want to get close to it._

Still, he finds himself opening his door and stepping outside as well. The temperature has definitely decreased. It might rain soon. The clouds are running in the sky, carried by the ever-growing wind. It's like this place can’t ever witness being warm and sunny, like there’s a permanent storm hovering around, ready to burst.

“Jensen, where are you going?” He calls.

Jensen stops dead on his feet a step ahead of Jared. He turns his head, looking scared, but determined.

“That’s really the place?”

“Yeah. I… I don’t want to get too close.”

“I’m not… sure…” Jensen says.   
He gets something out of his pocket: a small, cheap-looking flask, and takes a long mouthful, then winces and shakes his head quickly.

“Alcohol,” Jared states with the sudden urge to take it away from him. He’s a kid, god damn it.

Except it’s not true. It’s been a long time since Jensen had seemed like a kid.

“Can I have some?” he asks instead.

Jensen nods but doesn’t move, and despite his reluctance, Jared has to walk the distance between them to grab the flask.

The alcohol burns down his throat and makes him cough. Jensen smiles.

“Not used to it?”

“Not really.” _What about you?_ Jared wants to ask, but remains silent. Jensen’s the one with the flask.

“So,” Jensen says. “This is the place. I don’t even see windows for the basement.

“I think it was more like a cave,” Jared whispers.

His legs are unsteady and the alcohol is still burning its way through his esophagus. He turns around and goes to sit on the hood of his car.

Jensen looks at him, then at the house, shifting from one foot to the other. Then, it’s like he’s made up his mind suddenly. He turns back and goes to sit next to Jared, lighting up another cigarette as he settles.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can go inside,” he rasps, blushing slightly, as if ashamed of himself.

“What’s left to see anyway? It must be empty by now.”

“Yeah…” Jensen trails off. “Damn it. It’s… It’s just a freaking abandoned house, why am I so afraid?”

“I don’t know,” Jared murmurs, shivering despite himself. “But I feel the same.”

“I thought… I don’t know, that it would make me come to terms with… stuff.”

“Alaina says it will stay with us forever.”

Jensen snorts. “You still see her?”

“Yes. Only once a month, but yeah… I’ll have to change soon, though. She’s a child psychologist, and I’m barely a kid anymore.”

Jensen shakes his head softly, looking at Jared with affection. “A child, I don’t know: a giant one, maybe. But what good does it do to for you, after all these years?”

“We talk. I… Jensen. I still have symptoms of what she calls some form of PTSD. I have… issues. And you probably have some too.” 

“What kind of issues do you have?”

Jensen isn’t mocking or disbelieving. He looks sincerely curious, and all of sudden, Jared can see the kid behind the rough teenager, the bad boy with the piercings and the blue hair and his flask of alcohol hidden in his jacket. He sees the blond, quiet little boy that Jensen may have not ever ceased to be, like he can exist at once in two different ways. Jared decides to be honest, as honest as he can be.

“I… I’m not really up to the whole liking a girl thing,” he starts, wondering if there is any other way he can say that he just can’t have an erection without feeling physically sick. “And I hate being somewhere where there aren’t any windows. Having my picture taken or someone making a video makes me want to yell at them to stop it. I don’t do it if I can do otherwise. And I’m shy, I don’t like being amongst too many people, I don’t have a lot of friends and I’m still scared, sometimes, walking alone on the street. That’s…”

“That’s maybe just who you are,” Jensen objects. “You can’t… like, attribute your whole personality to this,” he points vaguely toward the farm.

“What do I know? I don’t know whom I would have been if Glass had never done those things to me. Do you?”

“Well, it doesn’t change anything. Even if you keep on talking to a shrink about it, you can’t change the fact that this shit happened.”

True, but Jared still needs to understand himself, to understand the man he’s becoming –as Alaina puts it- in regard of those events that have shaped him. He doesn’t think Jensen can get it, maybe because he’s never seen another psychologist, maybe because he’s just different.

Jensen seems to understand the difficulties Jared means because he shrugs, as to dismiss the whole thing, and wraps an arm around Jared’s shoulder, coming closer so that their bodies are tucked against each other.

“We shouldn’t have come here,” he says in an almost inaudible voice. “Doesn’t change anything. This, or knowing more about Benton Glass, or what happened to the two other boys. You know, most of the time, my mom is a pain in my ass, but maybe she was right. Maybe just forgetting the whole thing was the better way to cope.”

“I don’t think so,” Jared replies.

“I don’t remember much, ya know. About the time we were here… Well, I remember you and me and also some of the stuff that happened in the room, hearing the flash of the camera or lying on white, fluffy sheets, feeling sick… I think I used to remember more, but it got wasted away. And maybe it’s for the best. I don’t have nightmares anymore. I don’t think I’m still… traumatized.”

 _Of course he is,_ Jared thinks, but maybe Jensen has to figure it out on his own. 

“You and me,” Jensen adds. “That was the only thing worth remembering. M’glad you’re my friend, Jared.”

“I’m glad you’re mine.”

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Jensen says, smiling wide. “Time to celebrate your graduation and leave those ugly memories behind.”

That’s what they do. It’s not a bad evening. Jensen smiles and jokes and stuff himself with pizza. Felicia, Aldis and A.J. are friendly enough with him, especially Felicia, whom he’s met before.

Jensen says he has to leave the day after. Jared insists on buying him a bus ticket. He fights a little, just for the principle of it, but he seems relieved. Jared accompanies him to the bus station on a gloomy, misty afternoon.

“You know,” he says, as Jensen gets ready to get on. “Maybe I could be the one visiting next time. I do have a car.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jensen trails off, carefully avoiding Jared’s gaze. “Although I doubt you’ll have the same warm welcome from my mom and gran.”

They hug each other –manly, briefly, then Jensen disappears inside the bus.

They don't see each other for the next two years.


	5. Chapter 5

The end of Jared’s second college year is full of change. He’s moving out, which gets his mother so emotional that he feels very conflicted about it. True, he doesn’t have a good reason to move out: he’s going to a local college, he has a car, and everything he needs is at home. Sherry Padalecki, so sweet and understanding usually, even accuses Felicia of being the one responsible for Jared's sudden independence. Jared won’t deny his friend had been the one to come up with the idea in the first place, but it didn’t take much to convince him. They both work part time –Felicia at the college cafeteria, Jared at the library- and they won a special scholarship for an android app project they’re working on. So, money isn’t really an issue. 

Jared has trouble understanding why he’s so eager to move. His psychologist for the last year, Misha Collins, tells him that it’s only normal. He needs independence. It’s a normal step in life for young adults. He can’t stay home just to please his mother. 

“But why is she so upset about it?”

“Every mother is upset when their kids leave home. Now, your mom has always been very protective of you, and it’s understandable, given the circumstances. She’s scared for you because she has this impression she has some sort of control when you’re home, like she can watch over you to make sure nothing bad happens. She has to come to terms with it. Give her time.”

That’s what Jared does, and eventually, his mother comes around. She and Felicia’s mother take the lead of the operation, having the final word to say about anything, while Felicia’s father paints the walls and Jared’s dad runs around town to find them cheap furniture and electronics. “See? Felicia tells Jared. “That is why we need to move. My parents are going to drive me crazy.”

Their apartment is a small one located over a Chinese restaurant a couple of streets away from the college. Jared’s mom tells them the constant smells coming from downstairs are going to make them sick. Felicia’s father says the place is not worth what they’re paying for it. Doesn’t matter. It’s their new home. Jared is in love with the apartment, and if Felicia’s enthusiasm is anything to count for, she is too.

The evening of his official moving day, after a dinner that's way too emotional for Jared’s liking, he steps out of the house to find Megan sitting on the porch’s steps, looking like she’s been crying. It’s strange, because she’s been so cheerful since Jared said he was moving out, asking for his room –way more bigger than hers, she pointed out, which is anything but true- and generally marvelling at the fact that she was going to have the whole first floor to herself. It hadn’t surprised Jared. They’ve never been close. Most of the time, she’s getting on his nerves with her constant need for attention. 

That evening, though, something in his sister’s way of sitting kind of breaks Jared’s heart. She’s thirteen, very tall for her age, all too-long limbs and clumsy moves. She has a cluster of pimples on her right cheek. She’s started to put on some make up recently, too much, but this evening, all that’s left is the dark trails of her mascara under her eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jared sits next to her, even though he can’t wait to be done with this day and back at his place, where Felicia and he are sleeping for the first time.

“Nothing,” Megan replies almost aggressively. 

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“I just… don’t want you to think I’m a bitch.”

“What?” Jared swallows back a laugh just in time.

“’Cause I kept saying I would have your room and it would be so quiet in the house without you.” Megan groans, rubbing at her eyes and worsening the impression of a sad raccoon her face gives.

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t,” Megan whispers. “You think you do, but you don’t. 'Cause I can’t help being happy you’re leaving, and that makes me a horrible person.”

“No it doesn’t. I’m your pain in the ass big brother.” Jared coaxes. 

“But it’s true. You… You were always Mom's favorite, and I’m glad you’re leaving, because now I’ll have her all to myself.”

This struck Jared, like a slap in the face. His mouth gapes open as he looks at his sister, who’s trying to hold back fresh tears, a defeated expression on her face.

He’s never thought about himself being his parent’s favorite. Maybe they had behaved differently after he’d been abducted, but who could blame them? They always let some things go and had never been prompt to punish him if he behaved badly. It’s not Jared’s fault. Even Jeff had understood it.

But that was only because Jeff had been older, had always remembered the very dark months during which nobody knew where his little brother was. They’ve talked about it a couple of times. Jeff had told him how hard it had been, how devastated their parents were. He had had the feeling that the atmosphere in the house would forever be too quiet, like a single burst of laughter would shatter everything.

Meg, though, Meg hadn’t known anything else besides the after. She'd been a toddler when Jared had come back. For her, the only reality is the one after Jared’s return. How could she have understood? She knows something bad had happened to his brother. Sherry and Jerry Padalecki had told her a very diluted version when she’d been eight or nine and had started asking questions. Now, though, she’s thirteen, and Jared suspected she’d found ways to learn the whole story by herself.

It’s something they’ve never talked about, maybe because Jared had never taken the time. He’s been living under Jeff’s protective gaze until his brother had moved out, but he’s never stopped and realized that he, too, was a big brother.

A little bit of self-absorption, maybe? Jared has always thought of himself as a damaged boy and let everybody treat him like it, never fighting it because well… maybe he thought he deserved it?

“Shit, Meggie,” he whispers, chasing a long bang away from his face. “I’m not Mom's favorite. It’s just…”

“It’s okay if you are,” Megan cuts him off. “I understand.”

“No, it’s not like that. It’s so much more complicated than that. I’m sorry, Meggie. I haven’t really been a good big brother, huh?”

“Don’t say that, I’m not a baby anymore. I don’t need you to look after me,” Megan protests.

“Listen, Meg. Mom and Dad… And probably Jeff as well, they’ve always tried to take care of me because of what happened. You were a baby, you don’t know, but it’s been hard for them. I was gone for more than six months. Things changed after that. It’s sad, but it was inevitable.”

“What did he do to you and Jensen?” Megan asks suddenly. “That guy, Glass. Everything I’ve looked up on the internet says abuse, but I don’t know what kind. I’ve asked Mom, I’ve even asked Dad, and they both refused to say.”

 _Jesus._ Jared sighs. He doesn’t want to have this conversation now, god knows he doesn’t, but there is no way he can avoid it.

“Well, Glass is a sexual abuser. Is it a little more clear?”

“Not really,” Megan murmurs, blushing. “You don’t have to say anything, you know. Mom told me not to ask you questions.”

“You can ask questions,” Jared replies. “There is nothing wrong with it. You wanna know what Glass did to me? He abused me sexually. Jensen and I were kept in the basement, but sometimes he would drug us and then take one of us upstairs. The drug would make us really sleepy and docile. Then, he would take pictures of us, naked, or film us. He made us do things to him and he did things to us, like… huh… you know, anal penetration, or he would ask us to suck his penis and-“

Megan burst out crying, shoving her face in the crook of her hands. _Damn it_ , Jared thinks, wondering how he could have said things differently. He wraps his arm around Meg’s shoulders and she immediately leans into the touch. How little have they showed each other affection through the years, and how stupid does Jared feel not to have seen it sooner?

“I’m sorry I was jealous, I’m so sorry,” Megan hiccups. “I can’t be jealous of you because you’ve been hurt like that, I’m sorry…”

“Hey, no, it’s okay, Meggie. I understand. You’re not jealous of what happened to me. You’re jealous because of the attention it got me.”

“I love you,” Megan lets out with all the intensity and drama of a young teenage girl. 

“I love you too. Doesn’t mean we can’t get on each other’s nerves from time to time, right?”

Megan snorts through her tears and Jared smiles, relieved. It’s a start. Too bad they had waited for Jared to move out before actually talking to each other. _Nothing is lost,_ Jared thinks, dragging his sister up and holding his hand. “Come on, wanna say goodbye to Blue before I leave.”

She nods. They walk around the house to the backyard where Blue is buried in a quiet corner. The dog had died last summer from cancer, and Jared still has trouble thinking about her without feeling tears prickling his eyes. They had planted a young cherry tree on the place where she’s buried. Jared likes the idea of the whole cycle of life. He’s not a believer in a higher power, although he doesn’t want to completely refute the idea. He prefers the scientific and simple approach of everything being recycled forever. It’s the kind of eternity he could live with.

That evening, he makes Megan promise to come and visit if their parents are getting on her nerves. She promises, and a fragile new trust settles between them. Jared can feel it, like a soft electric current. 

::: :::

Jared and Jensen hadn't seen each other in two years. Last summer, Jared had wanted to visit Underhill, but had been met by a vague refusal from Jensen that “it wasn’t the best of times.” Somehow, even though Jensen doesn’t write a lot in his sporadic emails, Jared had guessed that he was in some kind of trouble. He now tries to write a least twice a week and he’s lucky if Jensen answers once a month. 

Jared is not giving up, though. Now that he has his own place, he insists on Jensen visiting him, even offering to pay for the bus ticket. In an email, about a week after Felicia and he have settled into their new home, he tries to dig a little deeper than his usual news about college, his friends and family. “You know I’m here for you, right? Whatever is going on, you can tell me. I won’t judge. I miss you, Jensen, and if you don’t come and visit, I’ll drag my ass all the way up to Underhill whether you like it or not.” He doesn’t get any response.

On July fifteenth, Jared spends the evening alone watching TV in his small living room. Felicia is on a date with a guy who works at the Chinese restaurant downstairs from their apartment. Peter something. 

It’s hot, and the small air conditioner they bought is less than effective. The windows are open and Jared is still sweating, even if he’s only wearing shorts. He’s kind of drowsy, like the heat had somehow sucked all the energy he could have.

It’s around nine when Jared hears the doorbell ring. He drags himself up, brushing his damp bangs away from his face. It’s probably Aldis or A.J. 

Jared opens the door without even looking through the peephole.

Jensen is waiting on the other side. 

Jared’s mouth drops open. “What…?”

“Hey, man, how are you?” Jensen smiles nervously.

Jared takes a second to look at his friend. He’s taller, but just as thin as he’d been two years ago. His jaw is stronger, though, his shoulders have enlarged. He’s becoming a man, Jared realizes with shock, like during those last two years he’d been the only one growing up. Jensen is seventeen now.

He wears tight jeans with a bunch of frayed holes in them, a crumpled t-shirt with some kind of drawing that looks like it has been painted on. To the multiple piercings he wears on each ear, he’s added one on his right eyebrow and a small pin under his lip. His hair is shorter, of an almost whitish blond: bleached, Jared presumes. And his eyes… 

There is an eyeliner trail under each eye, smudged so as not to look too neat. Jared wonders if this has any significance at all, some kind of current fashion or teenage norm he doesn’t know about. Anyway, none of it is important because that’s Jensen, right there.

Jared smiles widely and grabs him by the shoulders, holding him tight for a short moment.

“You still like the element of surprise, I see,” he adds when they break apart.

“Damn right I do. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course, yeah. Did you find the place all by yourself?”

“'F course,” Jensen steps inside, closing the door with his foot. “I even drove up here.”

“You got a car?”

“Yeah, and it’s better than your pathetic-“

“Don’t say another word about my car. I love it. It takes me places. That’s what cars are supposed to do, right?”

Jensen snorts derisively and takes his pack of cigarette out of his pocket. “Care for a walk? Don’t want your whole place to smell like a dirty ashtray.”

“Well, I don’t really care about the smell, but it’s so hot in here. Give me a couple of minutes to put something on, okay?”

“Deal.”

Less than five minutes later, they’re walking together on the sidewalk under the starry sky. The temperature is still high, but a very soft wind starts to blow, cooling Jared’s sweat and running through his hair. It feels good. He smiles, shoving his hands in his pockets. Jensen seems almost as relaxed as him, blowing bluish smoke circles lazily. They start to talk about Jared’s new apartment, and his projects with Felicia. Jared gives general news about his family, all things Jensen should know if he’s read his emails, which he must have since he found Jared’s place all by himself. His car is parked down the street, and they stop by for a few minutes so that Jared can admire the old but well maintained Ford Escort. Jared can’t help but notice the backseat is full of bags and duffels, plus a whole bunch of stuff, including a toaster and a small microwave. 

“Hey, are you… Are you moving or what?” 

Jensen clears his throat and begins to walk again. Jared has to run to catch up with him. “Jensen?”

“Yeah, I’m moving out.” He drops, sniffing nervously.

“But where? Did you… Are you going away to college?”

Jensen looks at Jared in disbelief. “College? Hell, Jared, I quit high school last year. What would I do in college?”

“You… You didn’t tell me.”

“Well,” Jensen shrugs. “Not something I’m especially proud of. Got thrown out after they caught me drinking in the guys’ bathroom. Could have gotten back in eventually, but school isn’t for me. Never was.”

“So what have you been doing ever since?”

“Working, mostly, needed the money to get away from fucking Underhill. Got hired in a garage, that’s how I got the car.”

Jared waits for Jensen to go on. He feels uneasy about the whole thing, but can’t really say he’s surprised. Still, he personally needs order and control in his life. A routine, a healthy, normal life. Felicia calls him anal. Misha Collins has more politically correct words for it but, in the end, it means the exact same thing.

“… Couldn’t stand living with my mother and grandmother anymore,” Jensen says in a quiet voice. “So I saved the money and then I left.”

“What does your mom say about it?”

“The hell if I know. Didn’t tell her. Left her a note, though. My mom and I, we haven’t really been speaking to each other for a long time.”

 _This is sad_ , Jared thinks. Heartbreaking. Then again, it’s not surprising. 

“So, where are you heading now?” he asks in what he hopes is a casual voice.

“Chicago.”

“Why?”

“That’s…” Jensen bites his bottom lip and takes another cigarette out of his pack. He lights it and draws a long breath in. “My father, I’m trying to find him.”

If there is one thing they’ve never talked about, it’s this. Jared remembers a very young Jensen telling him that his mom had said he didn’t have one, that it was just the two of them. He had asked question about it to his parents, wondering if one could really be without a father. 

“You huh… you know who he is?”

“Not really. All I could get from my mom is that his name was –well, it still is, right? Anyway, his name is Alan and she met him in Chicago. He was working as a receptionist at the hotel she was staying at. She told me she didn’t even know his family name, but I’m not sure I believe her. Seems odd. Most probably, she just doesn’t want me to find him. It was a one-time thing, you know.”

“So, Alan?”

“Yeah, that’s what I have so far, and the name of the hotel: the Best Western Grand Park Hotel. I’m looking for an Alan guy who was working there what… a little more than seventeen years ago. It’s enough to start.”

“What if…” Jared thinks a moment about the best way to ask his question. “What if you don’t find him?”

 

Yeah, there is no better way to ask something like this.

“Well, so be it. The important thing is that I needed to get away from her –my mom. I fucking need a fresh start. Doesn’t matter where I end, just… as long as it’s not back in Underhill.”

Basically, it means that Jensen is all but alone in the world. A seventeen year old with all his belongings tucked in the back of a car, who’s going on a quest to find a man who probably doesn’t even know he exists. Jared can’t allow it. For him, Jensen will always be the small blond kid crying for his mother in a dirty basement. His life hasn't been easy so far, if only compared to Jared’s, and it seems incredibly unfair to him.

He doesn’t know the details –as a matter of fact, there is a lot Jared doesn’t know about Jensen’s life since he left Providence, but the principal feeling he gets is one of overwhelmed loneliness. 

He’s surprised by the words coming out of his mouth next, but he instinctively knows it’s the right thing to do. “Hey, why don’t you stay here with us for a couple of weeks? I mean, you’re in no hurry, right? It would give me time to ask for some days off work, and then we could make this trip to Chicago together.”

Jared doesn’t like big cities, they make him feel lost and anxious. Too many people, smells, big buildings. The few times he went to New York with his family, he hated it, felt like he was choking, even in the middle of a street. Still, it doesn’t matter, not if he can be there for Jensen.

The smile Jensen gives him is wide and full of wonder. He stops walking and hold Jared back by the end. “You being serious?”

“Yes. Of course, yes. Come on, we haven’t seen each other for two years. I’d love to have you stay with me for as long as you want.”

“And what about Felicia?”

“She’ll be thrilled,” Jared says sincerely. Felicia is an easy going person and she's always had a thing for Jensen. The few times she actually met him, at least. Jared can’t imagine her being mad at something like helping a friend in need. “Our couch is a sofa bed. Not the best for privacy, but-“

“I don’t care. Fuck, man, really? You sure about it?”

“Yeah. You’re my friend, I’m thrilled to have you here.”

“Well, okay, then…” Jensen trails off, trying to hold back his smile as if he can’t allow himself to believe it.

“It’s settled. Come on, let’s get back and grab some of your stuff from the car.”

Jensen nods slowly, then grabs Jared by the neck and hugs him quickly, with one arm. “I really appreciate it, man,” he whispers in his ear.

They’re on their way back when Jared receives a text message from Felicia. “Don’t wait up.” It says, accompanied by a smiley winking. Great. Jensen and he will have the apartment all to themselves.

::: :::

After unfolding the sofa bed, Jensen takes a shower. When he comes out, he looks calmer, almost drowsy. His feet are bare, and he's wearing only a pair of worn out sleeping pants. Jared is shocked to see how thin he is, watching his bare chest. He can see the definition of his ribs, the flatness of his stomach. 

“See something you like?” Jensen jokes, scrubbing at his short hair with a towel. 

“Huh. Sorry. I was… “

“Staring?” Jensen suggest, winking at him.

Jared blushes all over his already hot body and sits on the sofa bed, trying to compose himself. 

“Hey, I was joking, man, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Jensen throws the towel away, revealing almost dry blond spikes. Then, he sits next to Jared and sighs. “So, you wouldn’t happen to have any beer?”

Jared snorts, relieved to change the subject. “Well, theoretically, I’m not supposed to… But yeah, we do have some beer. Want one?”

“Yeah.”

Jared makes a move to stand up but Jensen pushes him back on the couch. “Let me. I’m the one who asked, right?”

They settle on the unfolded sofa, each with a can of cheap beer bought by Felicia. Jensen has grabbed the remote control and does some channel surfing before stopping on a black and white horror movie and grinning.

“ _The Thing from Another World_. Ever watched this one?”

“No, I’m not a huge fan. Of horror movies, I mean.”

“Aww, don’t worry, this one won’t scare you.”

“I don’t mind. What’s it about?”

“Alien invasion, Alaska.”

The movie is kind of funny, and soothing, in a strange way. Maybe it’s the black and white used images, combined with the heat that can still be felt in the apartment, plus the beer. Jared doesn’t usually drink. He tried once, to really get himself drunk, because his friends seemed to have so much fun getting plastered. He’d been sick and anxious, hating the feeling of not being in control anymore, and had sworn himself never to do it anymore. He’ll stop after two beers. With the weight and height he has, two beers barely have any effect on him. He’s still sipping his first one when the movie comes to the final confrontation with the Frankenstein-look-alike alien and Jensen has emptied two cans. His head rests more or less against Jared’s shoulder and it’s comfortable, Jared thinks. So good to have Jensen back next to him.

“Never been to Chicago,” Jensen drawls. “Think it’s a fun place?”

“It’s big,” Jared murmurs. 

“Well, yeah…”

“Won’t your mother be worried, Jen?”

He hadn’t meant to ask this. It just popped in his head. He knows he’s made a mistake when Jensen sits up straightly and looks for a cigarette on his jacket on the coffee table. There isn’t any talk about the smell in the house. He just lights it up, using his empty beer can as an ashtray.

“I have my cell phone, ya’ know. She knows the fucking number. I’ve been gone since yesterday and she hasn’t called, so fuck her.”

“I’m… sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“Come on, don’t look like someone just kicked your puppy. Truth is, Jared, I haven’t exactly been a good son. We’re better off without each other.”

“It’s… this is very sad,” Jared says, rubbing Jensen’s back.

“No, it isn’t. It’s life, that’s all.” 

Jensen shivers and drops his barely smoked cigarette in the beer can, then puts it on the floor. When he turns his head to look at Jared, there is something new in his wide eyes, something Jared can’t quite identify. 

“We didn’t see each other for two whole years, Jared. I wasn’t that good at answering your emails. I’m a shitty friend. And then I arrive here without even calling, and you’re so damn happy to see me. You invite me to stay here with you, you say you wanna come with me to Chicago…”

“What’s wrong with it? I mean, is it bad or good?”

Jensen smiles softly and gets closer. Jared’s hair brushes the smooth side of his face. 

“Sometimes I feel like you’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me, Jay,” Jensen murmurs with so much intensity in his voice it leaves Jared speechless. 

And then Jensen grabs his face and kisses him, hard, shoving his tongue in his mouth and groaning all the while.

After the first few seconds of shock, Jared feels cold all over and tries to free himself, not hard enough. God, what’s happening? Why is Jensen doing this… Jared’s stomach wants to rise in his throat, and suddenly there’s nothing else than hands groping him and confusion, and someone trying to sit on him, trying to force him into…

He pushes, hard, with something like a moan rising from his chest and ripping his throat, but almost silent. For a moment, his heart beats so fast and so loud that he can’t see anything but darkness alternating with crimson flashes. 

Then everything comes back, slowly, like a dream you remember gradually after waking up. Jensen kissed him. Tried to make out with him. And now he’s on the floor, sitting on his ass, looking shocked and so pale there is something positively ghostlike about him.

“Jensen, I…”

“Sorry,” Jensen rasps. 

“I… Didn’t mean to push you, I’m so sorry…”

Jared is frozen in place. Did he send the wrong signals? Was it the back rubbing, the sitting close together, letting Jensen’s head rest on his shoulder? He doesn’t know, fuck, he doesn’t have a clue. He’s never felt sexual desire, whether it be for a boy or a girl. He knows affection. He’s very affectionate with Felicia, and she never thought…

“It’s my fault,” Jared says in an almost panicked voice. “Jen, I’m-“

“No, no, you don’t have to say anything. I just figured… You once told me you weren’t into girls, and I thought…” 

Jensen is getting up. Not only getting up, but grabbing his jacket, like he wants to leave.

Damn it.

“No, Jensen, wait. I… it’s not that I’m not into guys, it’s…”

“Meh, I get it,” Jensen spits out, shoving his clothes in his bags. “I should’ve known better, Jared, than to think that as fucked up as I am you would… never mind. Fuck.”

“Don’t go, please." 

“Fuck!” Jensen yells, trying to grab the three bags they'd brought upstairs only two hours earlier. 

When Jared tries to grab his arm, Jensen frees himself with way more strength than necessary.

“Hey, man, calm down, let me explain.” Jared is close to tears now. Hates himself for making Jensen feel so bad.

Rejected. Like he’s always felt.

“No, you don’t have to, really,” Jensen says quickly, already heading toward the door. “I need to… I… This was a bad idea.”

The way his voice trembles suggest he’s close to tears too. In the hallway, he shoves his naked feet in his worn out sneakers and opens the door.

Jared closes it back. “Hey. Don’t go. Please. I want to talk to you.”

Jensen snorts, keeps his head lowered. His shoulders are shaking. “Jay. I have no right to keep coming back in your life whenever it suits me and mess it up.”

“Hey, I got no idea what you’re talking about. You’re my friend, Jensen. My best friend. No one will ever understand…” Jared is pleading now.

“Yeah, no one but us, right?” Jensen murmurs, shifting from one foot to the other. “That’s why, Jared. That’s why I don’t have the right to fuck you up, you, of all people.”

And then he’s out. Jared runs after him down the stairs barefoot, and stops at the bottom. Jensen is walking backward on the sidewalk, smiling, an indescribable sadness in his too young face. “Hey, don’t make a scene, man, I’m not worth it.”

“Please don’t go,” Jared says. “Jensen. I’m begging you.”

Jensen stops on his tracks for a second and Jared’s hope rises up a notch. Maybe they can fix this, whatever went wrong, maybe…

“I’ll call you, Jay,” Jensen finally says.

He winks at him and turns his back to Jared, who watches him leaves because he doesn’t know what else do to. 

::: :::

It’s not your fault, Felicia tells Jared. 

You can’t be responsible for your friend’s life, Misha Collins says. Give him a little time. He’ll come around.  
Jensen doesn’t come around. Neither does he answers any call or message Jared leaves on his cell phone. After a week, there is a message saying that the number is no longer in function.

Jared doesn’t tell his family. He would have to explain what happened, and he can’t bring himself to do so. What he does do, after two weeks, is call Jensen’s phone number at home, in Underhill. Jensen’s mother answers. She gets upset as soon as Jared identifies himself. “No, I haven’t seen or heard of him. Have you?”

Jared tells her that he stopped by to visit him, on his way to Chicago. Jensen's mother bursts out crying then. It shocks him. Over the years, he has come to think of Donna Ackles as a cold, heartless woman. “I think he’s better off without me,” the woman adds when she calms down a bit. “I never could understand him, give him what he needed.”

“Did you call the police to tell them he had run away?” Jared asks.

“Why? He’s seventeen, and he never kept secret the fact that he’d leave town as soon as he would be able to.”

She’s already resigned herself to his leaving.

Jared isn’t a psychologist, and he doesn’t know how to deal with her. He promises to call if he ever receives some news. 

It takes Jared the rest of the summer before his mood improves. Despite Felicia’s efforts and his psychologist's help, he thinks he may be very close to suffering from depression. It’s when Collins suggests a light medication that Jared shakes out of it. He doesn’t want to take pills. Logically, he knows it could help, but he’s always refused to do so, even Tylenol for a headache. Another one of his issues, maybe. The fact that he'd been drugged has never left his mind, even more so now that he’s grown up and understands perfectly what the drugs had allowed Benton Glass to do to him.

Still a question of control.

So Jared starts running. Every morning before class, he runs. At the beginning, he can barely make it around the block before panting hard and feeling like his heart is about to burst out of his chest. Then it gets easier.

Running is a way to evacuate the conflicted feelings he has, Collins says. It can be redeeming. 

All Jared knows is that it helps. He doesn’t feel the need to question the why’s and how’s. He’s working hard in school. Tries to be a good brother, a good friend, a good son. 

Once a month, he writes to Jensen. He never receives any news, but he keeps doing it. 

After a year or so, he finds himself resigned about not seeing his friend again. Maybe it was always meant to end that way. Maybe Jensen really is better off without him, without his mother. Hell, maybe he found his father after all.

After two years, Jared stops writing. 

Still, there is this empty space in him, a hole that can never be filled. He learns to live with it.


	6. Chapter 6

**PART 2  
Where The Wild Things Are**

_Chapter 1_

“Come on, baby. Come on.”

Jensen’s fingers are shaking a little as he cuts through the cocaine and tries to draw a -more or less- straight, thin line with his razor blade. He sniffs, steps from one foot to the other and keeps his eyes focused down on the small mirror. He can see his blood-shot eyes, the dark circles under them, a patch of too-white skin.

“Just to get me going, sweetheart ,” he rasps.

Before going out. Finding someone to fuck him hard and good. Yeah, that’s what he needs right now.

He takes the old but carefully rolled dollar bill, bends down and sniffs the coke line up deeply, waiting impatiently for the thrill, the rush.

It burns, all the way up to his sinuses, small electric explosions that seem to light up his brain. Jensen clears his throat and shivers, sneezes two times, muffling them in the crook of his cupped hands. The surge of energy is almost too much to bear. He lifts his head and looks at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

“Yeah,” he pants, pinching his nose, hard. “Yeah, that’s it.”

He doesn’t take cocaine that often: by far, he prefers the tender, slow hold of M in pills or patches, depending on what he can get his hands on. Tonight, though, he needed the extra boost. He didn't sleep last night, and he wanted to be sharp and buzzed enough to enjoy himself, to find a warm, sweating body ready to welcome his own. He’s got X in his pocket, for later, and a couple of Cody pills–not the best quality, just black market stuff, but it’s all he could afford.

Jensen puts on the tightest jeans he has and a black t-shirt that clings to his body: there is a white pattern in the front that he drew himself, some kind of star that looks like it’s melting. Jensen never thinks too much when he draws. He just let it happen, anything that wants to come out of his brain and on the paper, clothes, or skin. 

He carefully does his hair in a short Mohawk, the red tips looking almost purple because of the gel, than draws a thick eyeliner line under each eye, smudging it so that it doesn’t look too delicate. He would have skipped this step and dressed differently if he’d been looking for a girl tonight. But no, he wants a boy, someone bigger than him, hard and fast. The need is there, growing in the pit of his stomach. His cock twitches in the confine of his jeans: it’s almost painful.

It’s good.

::: :::

Jensen lives in a two-room apartment at the back of the tattoo parlor where he'd been hired a few weeks after he’d first arrived in Chicago, more than five years ago. He has to cross the parlor floor to go out, which is kind of a pain in the ass when Christian, his friend and the parlor’s owner, works late. Jensen tries to compose himself as much as he can, to look calm and nonchalant although he knows he fails completely. Christian has a knack for reading him. As hard as Jensen tries, Chris always knows when he’s lying.

Almost always.

“Hey, going out,” he says, walking right past his friend, who’s behind the counter counting proceeds of the day, long hair hiding most of his face.

“Where?” he asks, his voice low and suspicious.

“Out,” Jensen repeats, his hand on the door’s handle.

“Wait.”  
Of course. Sighing, Jensen lets go of the handle and turns back. Christian isn’t working at the register anymore, but looking straight at him, arms crossed, mouth quirked. This isn’t good.

“Thanks for doing the spider tat, today. We would have gotten behind schedule if you hadn’t stayed for that extra hour.”

Christian being thankful is almost as worrying as him being pissed. Jensen nods. His fingers are tingling, his heart beating a little too fast. He needs to get out.

“So, where did you say you were going?” Christian adds after an awkward second of silence.

“I didn’t say where I was going.”

Jensen takes a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lights it, trying to keep his composure. 

“Jen.”

“Don’t _Jen_ me.”

“Hey, man, we’re friends. I’m worried,” Christian says in a softer voice.

That’s worse. Now will come another never-ending discussion about Jensen’s drinking problems, about the drugs, about not taking care of himself, and that’s it. He can’t take it. Not tonight.

“The Spiral, Chris. That’s where I’m going,” he snaps out, and this time he doesn’t listen, just gets out on the street and tries not to think about Christian and his damn principles anymore. 

::: :::

Christian stays immobile for a long time after Jensen’s gone. Then, as if he’s snapping out of some sort of spell, he feels the familiar buzz of anger tensing his body. He curses under his breath and goes back to finish counting the register.

He takes much longer than he should, his mind going back to Jensen and his coked eyes, out for the night, looking for quick relief, drinking too much, sniffing or swallowing any fucking piece of artificial paradise he can get his hands on. 

It’s not like the kid has ever been clean and reasonable. Christian remembers perfectly the first time they’d met, one cold September evening. This young guy, too thin, shivering and soaking wet, had walked into his store. He’d tried to look smug and independent; his chin raised high, his piercings shining in the parlor's yellowish light. _I’m a rebel, I’m tough_ , is what the boy’s stance tried to say, but then Chris had seen his eyes, big green orbs reflecting fear and rejection, hunger, desperation.

That’s why he’d given Jensen the part time job offer that had been plastered on the door. The kid had told him he knew how to draw and to work a cash register, but Christian would have hired him anyway. He hadn’t had an easy life either, and he had recognized the signs immediately. He’d been the last stop before Jensen would have dropped into the streets.

He’d invited the kid for dinner at the restaurant two doors away from his tattoo parlor, and had seen him eat a hamburger and fries, plus some onion rings and a large milkshake, in less than five minutes. Christian hadn’t learned a lot that night, except that Jensen was eighteen and from Vermont. He’d been sleeping in his car for the last two weeks. 

“I have a room for rent,” Chris had said on a whim, and seeing Jensen’s eyes light up, he hadn't regretted it.

The two small rooms at the back of his business hadn’t been occupied for the last three years, and were filled with stuff Christian didn’t have time to throw away or move anywhere else. When he’d first bought the place, money had been tight and he had been living there. Then, when it had gotten better, he’d found a nice studio in a nicer part of Chicago than this commercial street. 

Christian had never been the Good Samaritan kind of man, but something in Jensen just resonated to his core. He’d helped him settle, lent him money, and showed him the tricks of the trade of the tattoo business. Jensen’s artistic talent was undeniable, and if at the beginning, he’d been scared as hell to actually tattoo someone, now he’s better than Christian and Danneel –his other employee- combined. For now. 

Truth is, if Jensen keeps his fucked-up lifestyle, he won’t be able to tattoo much longer. Physically, he’s losing it. That’s not what worries Christian, though. He couldn’t care less about losing his best artist. He fears for the kid’s life now. The sensation of dread has been escalating over the last few months. Christian is not sure how to handle it.

For now, all he can do is keep an eye on the boy. He quickly closes the store and goes out, walking the dark, dirty sidewalk at eleven at night. He’s twenty-nine and beginning to think he’s too old for this.

::: :::

Colors shift and tremble, hot bodies move around him, and the music is pumping, shaking him to his core. He can’t even think anymore, just move, pressing himself against anyone that gets close enough. The buzz of the cocaine is fading, he’s not drunk enough yet, but the X pill he swallowed when he entered the club should start working any minute now.

Jensen moves and jumps and dances to the music, and in the crowd of beautiful strangers, he spots a guy, taller and broader than him, semi-long dark hair, a sweat-covered face with well defined, masculine features.

_You’re gonna fuck me tonight_ , he thinks, then cuts through the crowd, heading toward the man. Feeling the rush, the need. He hasn't been laid in three days. He needs this.

::: :::

The Spiral is crowded, of course it is. It’s Friday night. Christian waits in line, hands shoved in his pocket, feeling out of place amongst the colorful youngsters in front of him. Chris likes to think he’s an opened minded guy; he doesn’t have anything against gays, doesn’t feel his masculinity threatened. He just feels kind of left out when he’s with Jensen in a gay environment, like there is a secret language or code going on around him, that he can’t quite catch. It always leaves him this impression of missing something; awkwardness and ignorance wrapped up together in a confusing mess.

Then again, with Jensen, it’s more complicated than this. The kid says he’s bisexual, and maybe he really believes it, but there seems to be something more. Jensen is promiscuous, always out to find someone, to get laid, always looking for his next hookup, man or woman. When he’d been younger, Christian had thought that he was just going through this hormonal phase every young man experiences when they become sexually active at the beginning of their adult life. 

Now, Christian knows better. Just like he’s addicted to tobacco and opiates –and now, cocaine, even though it’s not as serious as the morphine he gets on the streets- Jensen is somehow addicted to sex. Christian is no psychologist. It also seems to come in phases, cumulating in a series of wild one-night stands, days where he’ll disappear and call Christian to say he won’t be able to make it to work. Then there is a quieter period that sometimes lasts up to a month, where he’ll only go out once a week, not even looking for sex. 

Now, though, he’s reaching another peak. After five years, Chris knows that June and July are the months where Jensen gets more out of control, on edge. He couldn’t say why those months are the worst. They’re friends, maybe more. Christian likes to consider himself as Jensen’s big brother, but he still doesn’t know a lot about him. He knows that Jensen came to Chicago to look for his father, who he didn’t find, and then quickly lost interest in finding. Christian knows his mother lives in Underhill, Vermont, but Jensen hasn't spoken with or visited her in five years. He dropped out of high school before heading west, and last but not least, he has a friend, somewhere, who’s been important to him if the number of time Jensen speaks about him is any indication. They seemed to have had some kind of falling out before Jensen came to Chicago. It could be worse; maybe the guy is dead or something, given the way Jensen speaks about him, always with love, affection, and a great deal of melancholy. Jared something. Chris can never remember the family name.

That’s about it. It's not much. Christian knows Jensen now, knows he likes old horror movies, punk rock from the seventies and eighties. Has a great voice, although he’ll only sing when he’s alone and sure no one is there to listen. Jensen likes touches, to cuddle, to hug, to kiss. Danneel and he are always doing it, with affection, nothing more than this. When Christian had hired Danneel two years ago, he thinks something happened between Jensen and her, but as it is always with Jensen, it hadn’t lasted more than a few hours.

Christian Kane is a man of few words. He’d been raised by a father who loved nothing more than get drunk and beat his son up. He has spent some time on the streets himself. He’s a loner, with few friends, and a penchant for alcohol he always has to fight. Can’t live with booze, can’t live without it. He knows he’s far from perfect. Maybe he's not what Jensen needs. He used to think the kid would outgrow his wild phase, but now, he’s not sure about anything anymore.

The opiates are the most urgent problem. Jensen has been on and off them since the beginning. He even quit completely one year ago -without telling Christian –and wasn’t that a fun ride. It had lasted a month, and it seems to have slowly, but surely, spiraled out of control ever since. It takes a lot to overdose on morphine; Christian has been reading up on the subject recently, but it’s not as if Jensen is getting his pills and patches from a pharmacy. God knows what junk the resellers on the street put in their little recipes. 

Christian has also been reading about AIDS and hepatitis. Jensen had sworn he’d always been careful, but this winter, Christian had taken him to a clinic to be tested, brandishing the very false menace of firing him. He thinks Jensen had only accepted because he might have been worried himself, or else he never would’ve fallen for it. Chris did the same with the drugs and alcohol, and Jensen had just blinked at him and said, “You can’t ask that of me.” 

Those haunted, childlike eyes again. Breaking him. The test might have come back negative this time, but Jensen’s luck won’t last forever.

There is a urgency about taking action that Christian has never felt before. That leaves him feeling helpless, angry, worried all the damn time.

And fuck, will he ever get to enter the goddamn club.

::: :::

Having sex in one of Spiral’s back room is a regular occurrence. Jensen doesn’t feel any shame or shyness as he’s pressed against the wall, pants and underwear lowered down his knees, as the guy –Alex, Alec?- opens him up with lube-coated fingers. There isn’t much to do. Jensen prepared himself in the shower beforehand. Still, Alex-Alec seems to want to take his sweet time, sucking bruises on Jensen’s exposed neck as he works Jensen's hole. Jensen’s cock is rock hard and leaking against the cold wall. The pleasure is intense, buzzing in his ears and making colors explode behind Jensen’s closed eyes.

“Come on, come on, Alex, just fuck me,” he rasps, his nails scraping at the peeling paint on the wall.

“Alec,” the other man pants. “You ready, baby?”

“Fuck yeah.”

The fingers are withdrawn, leaving Jensen empty and moaning at the loss. He hears the tear of a condom wrapper and clenches his teeth, anticipating the burn. This will be good. This _better_ be good. 

The X isn’t giving him the intense feeling of closeness and euphoria he’s used to. He should’ve known. He’d tried this new dealer that was as shady and cliché as a movie character. Doesn’t matter. The sexual release will break him apart soon enough.

Jensen doesn’t think about the aftermath, refuses to acknowledge the frustration that’ll replace the afterglow. It’s always been like that for him. After an anticipated orgasm, he comes down quickly, like he’s been chasing a pleasure that never reaches fruition, like he’s not the one truly feeling it, but merely an observer inside his own head. Leaving him wanting, needing more, convinced that next time he’ll be able to ride the wave and just _feel._

This time, this time will be good. He’ll bite the inside of his cheeks to refrain from screaming, splash the dirty wall with his release, and maybe, just maybe, he'll feel at peace for a little while.

Alec parts his ass cheeks with one hand and nudges the head of his cock against his hole. Jensen spreads his legs as wide as he can, despite his movement being restricted by his clothes pooling around his ankles.

“Come on,” he coaxes, voice hoarse. “Come on, put it in.”

Alec groans and pushes past the ring of muscles. It burns a little. Jensen doesn’t care. He needs the pain as much as the pleasure. The other man pushes in deep, nudging his prostate at the first try. Jensen moans and gets a hand around his cock, gathering the precome at the tip with his thumb, shivering. “Give it to me. Please, harder. Harder, damn it,” he orders, not caring how needy he sounds.

“Yeah,” Alec pants. “Yeah, baby, fuck, you feel good.”

And he gives it to him. Hard. Jensen feels used in the most amazing way and has to brace himself with his free hand, bending his head back so he won’t hit it against the wall. He’s going to come, sooner than he expected. He doesn’t care. Tonight is not a night where he wants to drag the pleasure on and on. He jerks his cock faster, enough to feel the pain of too much friction. His balls are drawing up and hardening.

“Close,” he pants. “So close.”

“Shit. Fuck,” Alec answers, pounding into him harder. Faster. “You’re so damn perfect, angel.”

Jensen’s orgasm rips through him.

_You’re my little angel, aren’t you?_

He doesn’t feel anything.

His ears are buzzing and he shivers violently, closing his eyes, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

_Come on, little angel, show me how pretty you are._

“Get… get away from me,” he stutters, his whole body tensing.

_He doesn’t stop, oh god, he doesn’t stop, and it hurts so much, so much and it’s too big, it’s wrong, why does he keeps hurting him?_

“Get off!” he yells, pushing back hard against the other man’s body.

“Hey, what-“

“You fucking bastard, can’t you hear what he just said?”

Jensen doesn’t know what’s happening, except that the guy is yanked backward, freeing him. And fuck, he’s crying. Why is he crying, what…

_Pretty angel, look at you._ The smell of sweat and the big hands parting his bottom. He wants his mom, he wants Jared, please, please stop…

“Hey, stop it, he wanted it!” Jensen hears, like he’s coming out of a dream. 

He blinks, turns awkwardly, holding to the wall, with his freaking pants still around his ankles. 

And there’s Christian, looking murderous and holding Alec by the collar of his shirt, ready to punch him. Alec is taller than Chris but it doesn’t change anything. When Chris is in this mood…

“Christian, let him go, he didn’t do anything,” Jensen muttered hoarsely, dragging his pants and underwear up.

Poor Alec looks terrified, his quickly deflating cock still jutting out from his unzipped jeans. There are people gathering around them.

“Chris, let go,” Jensen insists, dragging his friend back by his shirt. “Let’s get out of here.”

Christian looks at the guy one long second and lets out a feral growl before pushing him away.

Alec is zipping his pants, face beet red. His hands are shaking, and Jensen feels bad. It’s not the guy’s fault if what he said triggered…

_You don’t have to think about this. Nothing forces you to think about Him._

“Look, I’m sor-“

“What the hell is the matter with you, you fucking cocktease?” Alec cuts him off.

Christian is fast. The punch hits Alec right on the nose. He falls backward on the floor, flat on his ass. Blood is gathering on his upper lip.

“We’re leaving,” Jensen says in a blank voice, turning on his heel and dragging Christian along.

He feels tired, drained, disgusted with himself. Nothing new there. He just would’ve preferred it if Christian hadn’t witnessed it all.

::: :::

The walk back to the tattoo parlor is silent. Jensen walks fast, hands shoved in his pockets, shivering against the wind.

Christian follows at a respectable distance, giving himself some time to cool down. Right now, he’s angry, not at the douche that was maybe-maybe not forcing himself on Jensen, but at Jensen himself, for putting himself into these situations, for the lack of care he has toward his own body, mind, and spirit. He doesn’t want to start shouting at the kid. This won’t help. He needs to gather his thoughts, to find a way to reach Jensen, to really get to him. 

Christian feels like this is a turning point. Or a breaking point, whatever. The thing is, Jensen can’t go on like this. They both know it.

Jensen walks straight through to his apartment while Christian arms the security system in the parlor. This has been a long day. It’s not even one in the morning, and Chris feels drained. Old. Maybe too old to watch out for Jensen and deal with his habits.

Well, that is a depressing thought.

He walks into his friend’s apartment and finds Jensen sitting on the couch of his small living room/kitchenette. He’s taken off his boots, his feet resting on the coffee table next to an overflowing ashtray. There is a bottle of beer on the TV, for Christian, of course. Jensen is in the process of emptying his own, long, loud swallowing sound as his Adam's apple bobbles. By the small empty bag resting on the floor, Chris can tell that Jensen has just taken something, probably opiates. He grabs his own bottle of beer and unscrews it with way too much strength.

“So,” he says, leaning against the wall.

“So,” Jensen repeats dully without looking at him. “That guy, Chris. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Well, when I got to you, you sure as hell wanted him to leave you alone.”

“Yeah…” Jensen trails off, smiling without a hint of joy.

He takes time to light up a cigarette, all the while carefully avoiding Christian’s gaze.

“That’s… I wanted it. Then he called me something and I don’t know: it fucked me up.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know. Never happened before,” Jensen murmurs.

And that’s it, that’s the end of Christian’s patience. He puts the beer back on the TV and hits the wall with his open hand. Jensen jumps.

“Okay, enough, Jensen. Enough, you hear me? I’ve tried, really, but you’re not helping, man.”

“Helping what?”

Jensen’s eyes are getting glassy. He’s taken morphine alright. Christian hates this. “You’re so fucking driven into destroying yourself, and I don’t know what to do anymore. Shit, I’ve been wild in my time, made some mistakes of my own, did stuff I’m not proud of. I keep thinking: he’s gonna calm down. Stop the booze and the drugs and the fucking sex marathons and grow up. But it ain’t happening. Got worse since you started taking morphine again after you quit last year. You know what is waiting for you, right?”

There’s this smile again, the life-is-a-bad-joke-I’m-supposed-to-live-through, Jensen crooked smile. It wasn’t funny to begin with.

“Damn it, Jensen!” Christian yells, pushing the coffee table away.

Jensen’s feet fall on the floor, and although he seems surprised, he doesn’t move from his spot and doesn’t acknowledge Christian’s gesture. Instead, he dumps his cigarette in his empty beer bottle and proceeds to light up another one.

Christian yanks it out of his mouth and falls on one knee, grabbing Jensen by his shirt, shaking him. “Look at me, man! You’re gonna die if you keep up like this! And I’m not going to stand here and watch you do this to yourself, alright? You… It’s getting out of control and you don’t care at all! Well, guess what? I care, I care about your sorry ass!

Trembling, Christian lets go of Jensen and lets himself fall on the floor next to the couch, cursing. Jensen isn’t ignoring him anymore, at least. He grabs Chris' shoulder and let himself slide next to him, turning his head toward him, no more smile. He looks like he carries all the sadness of the world on his thin shoulders. It’s barely tolerable for Chris to watch.

“I’m sorry, Chris,” Jensen utters in a broken voice. “I’ll leave if that’s what you want me to do.”

“You’re not getting it, are you? I don’t want you to leave, Jensen. You’re my friend. I want you to be… better. Try and be happy. That’s what I want for you. Tell me whatever happened to you, there must be a reason you live this way. I mean, my own father used to beat me up: I can understand a lot. There has to be something that’s eating you inside. There always is.”

“I…” Jensen bites his bottom lip and runs a hand through his hair. He seems puzzled. “I always though you knew. I thought that’s why you helped me in the first place.”

“What? What am I supposed to know?” Christian knows he sounds desperate, because he is.

“Hell, Danneel knew… She waited before she brought it up, but she recognized my name,” Jensen goes on like he’s thinking out loud.

“Why would she recognize you?”

“Fuck, I can’t…”

Jensen shakes his head and stands up, surprisingly quick and agile for a guy on morphine. “I can’t”, he repeats, starting to pace in the narrow space.

“Jen, come on, now you’re scaring me,” Chris pleads softly.

There is a cold sensation rising from the pit of his stomach. Whatever it is that Jensen wants to tell him, Chris is stricken by fear. Maybe he doesn’t want to know. Maybe he just can’t handle this.

Jensen disappears in his bedroom. Chris can hear him shuffling through his drawers. It doesn’t take long. He comes back with his laptop and a DVD case, puts his computer on the coffee table and slides the DVD inside. Chris had time to see that it’s a burned CD, with only two letters written on it. “B.G.”

“So, I’m not gonna stay for this,” Jensen says quickly. “I can’t watch it again. I’ll be in my room, if you wanna talk after. Please put on the earphones. I don’t even want to listen.”

“What is this?” Chris asks in a low voice, still not sure he really wants to know.

“It’s an old episode of _True Crime Story_. It was broadcast for the first time seven years ago.”

“ _True Crime Story,_ what the hell does it have anything to-“

“I’ll be in my room.”

Jensen closes the door behind him.

::: :::

Christian has vaguely heard about the Rhode Island Monster. He was a teenager at the time of the events, and was stuck in his very private bubble of troubles.

It takes him five minutes before he realizes what this show is really about, and then he sees the picture of a kid popping on the screen, a young, blond boy with huge green eyes. He hears Jensen’s name like an echo, clenches his fists and his teeth.

He won’t unclench them for forty minutes, feeling alternately sick, disgusted, mad as hell, and full of pity.

Now he understands, he thinks, watching the ending credits roll by. So many things. Finally. Christian doesn’t even try to clean up his head from the thousands of thoughts that are crossing his mind like shooting stars. He stands up on shaky legs and walks to the fridge to get another beer.

Not thinking about anything else than those big green eyes and delicate features, the shy smile of the kid. And Jared Padalecki, and the two dead little boys.

He wants to punch something. He needs to punch something.

Christian downs his beer in three big mouthfuls, the inside of his head crimson and pounding. Just like when he would witness his bastard of a father hit his mom –that is, until he’d finally fought back.

He’d always been careful not to show his mother the anger that was burning constantly inside him. With her, he’d been tender and sweet, protective, even when all he could think about was ending the life of the son of a bitch who’d beaten her up.

He can do this now, for Jensen.

Control. Christian takes a couple of deep breaths and goes to knock at his friend’s door. 

“Come in,” Jensen answers, his voice scratchy and low.

He’s sitting on his bed, staring into nothingness. He’s been crying. His eyes are puffy and red, his nose is running. He doesn’t seem to care. 

“Are you too high to talk?” Christian asks carefully, sitting next to him on the bed.

“He called me angel,” Jensen whispers. “That guy, tonight, everything was peachy and then he called me angel. Just like Benton Glass used to do. And then I snapped.”

“Of course, you snapped. Fuck, Jensen, I am so, so sorry, man.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

Christian isn’t the touchy-feely kind of guy –never has been, but now, he physically needs to touch Jensen. He slides one arm around him, his hand on the younger man’s neck, and presses him against himself, patting his back with his free arm. Jensen is tensed and immobile at first, then, he literally melts into the touch and burst out crying. “You’re still my friend, right? You’re my friend, Chris…” He hiccups.

“F’course I’m your friend,” Christian replies immediately. “Don’t ask stupid question. You…”

_Should have told me_ , is what Christian is about to say, but he doesn’t let it out. He’s not the kind of guy who’s used to talk about his past -the darkest part, at least. Jensen never owed it to Christian to tell him he’d been kidnapped and sexually abused. It’s a privilege, the fact that he has decided that Chris was worth the effort.

“You seems suddenly very healthy, psychologically speaking, for a guy who’s been through all that shit,” is what he says instead.

Jensen burst out laughing against his chest. It’s a nice sensation. It’s probably out of cheer nervousness but Christian doesn’t care. He’ll take what he can get.

“I’m not,” Jensen says after a while, freeing himself from Christian’s grip. “I know I’m not. And that… I can’t go on like that. I just… fuck, Christian, I’mma mess. I don’t even know where to start.”

Chris doesn’t know either. What he knows, though, is that Jensen has never talked to him that way, looking at him, frank and open. And maybe, maybe Jensen feels like he’s hit the bottom, that he can either stay there and die, or fight to resurface. Just like Christian has felt.

“This Jared guy, that’s how you met him.”

“Yeah,” Jensen nods. “He was there when Glass took me, had been there for three months. He took care of me, as well as he could. After everything was over we continued to see each other, first at our psychologists's office, then I would visit his house. Time passed and you know … life. My mom and I moved to Vermont, and we couldn’t see each other as often. I missed him. I mean, constantly. And then when I left home, I stopped by his place and managed to fuck everything up. Made a move on him and he didn’t want it, and I ran, and I missed him ever since and…”

Jensen shakes his head and drags his wrist under his nose. “Anyway, what can we do, right? He did so much better than me, afterward. I don’t even remember when I started hurting myself… Or hating my mom, I can’t even tell you why, why everything has always been so hard. Maybe that’s just the way I am. But Jared I… l looked at him and I could see that he was holding it together and when I was with him, it felt like I could be okay too, that it was possible.”

Christian refrains himself from asking the hundreds of questions at the tip of his tongue. He’d never guessed Jensen hurt himself, although the way he treats his body like it’s not worth a thing should have been an indicator. Why did Jared push him away? What kind of relationship did Jensen had with his mother to end up hating her? 

He doesn’t want to make this more difficult for Jensen than it already is. Hope is a fragile thing, and Christian needs it right now.

“Jen.”

“What?”

“You’ve gotta come clean. That’s the only thing that makes sense right now. Isn’t that what you want?”

“I…” Jensen drops his head in his hands, sighing, his back bowed like that of an old man. “I don’t want to live like this anymore, but I can’t… I can’t, Chris. Whenever I’m clean or sober, the nightmares come back, and then I can’t help it… Relieving it, again and again, even when I’m fucking awake, he’s there. Always there, calling me angel and m-m-making me… shit.”

Jensen lets out a sob, harsh, tearing through his throat. “You can’t understand. Only Jared could. He could just look at me and I knew he understood what I was going through.”

“Listen, man. I know I can’t get it. But what I can understand is trying to go on with your life when you were given a shitty hand. And fuck, I might not be a model of mental health, or whatever, but I know I can find help for you. A shrink, meds, something. As long as you’re into this as well we can. Jensen, you can’t let this bastard win. He ruined the little kid you were, don’t let him kill you before your time.”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Chris.”

Jensen is shaking all over and rocking softly on himself, his arms wrapped around his wracked body. 

“Hey,” Chris put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “One thing at a time, right? First, you need to get off Morph and Cody and all those opiates you pop up like candy. You already did it once. I’ll be right there with you.”

“Yeah?” Jensen asks, trying for an uncertain smile full of fear.

“Yeah,” Christian answers.

He’ll do what needs to be done. First thing on his list is to find Jared Padalecki, because if Jensen thinks he needs him to get through this, Christian will make damn sure he gets him.


	7. Chapter 7

If you’d ask Jared Padalecki where he would be in his life at 24 years old, he probably would have picked anything except being the co-owner of a small gaming company. It still somewhat surprises him, when he arrives at the office every morning, to see the name of the company written on the door: DayPad EEG (Electronic Entertainment and Games). True, it’s a constant struggle to keep up with the industry giants out there, and to try and rise above the masses with original products, but Jared and Felicia are doing well, considering their size. 

They have two full-time employees. One of them is already behind his computer when Jared pushes the door open, shortly after eight. Osric Chau is typing on his keyboard like some crazy hacker in a movie. He's already got the coffee machine going. It smells good, and it feels like home. 

The location they’re renting is in downtown Providence, on the second floor of an industrial complex. It’s a large studio with huge windows, with the desks and computers all out in the open. It’s team work, although most of the time, each one is behind his or her computer. Felicia says they need to be able to communicate easily and to let the ideas they share cook up in their common space. Jared isn’t so sure about all that. He simply likes it this way. In the middle of the studio is a lounge with couches and comfy chairs. That’s where they end most of their days, talking about the progress they've made and thinking about what to do next.

Truth is, Jared never has the impression he comes to work. The fact that he doesn’t really have to care about money probably helps. Felicia and he aren’t rich, not really, but their college project of creating an android app had worked better than they could have imagined. They’d never have had the guts to commercialize it in the first place, but a teacher had encouraged them to do so. The app in question was simple enough: it would help people with their grocery shopping, suggesting meals and food combinations, even giving different values to each item according to a color code based on their nutritional values. As soon as it was available, it had become very popular–not on the scale of _Shazam_ or _Angry Birds_ , but popular enough that Jared and Felicia had decided to sell it to a Google subcontractor, earning enough money to create DayPad EEG and not to have to worry about money for a long time.

They’re doing good. Their company has already released another app, a puzzle game, and they’re now working on something bigger: a platform game featuring chess pieces, where each character has a role to play and special abilities according to the original chess play.

They’ve been working on the Knight for the last two weeks. That’s what Osric is doing that June morning, when Jared goes to look over his shoulder. There is a 3-D representation of the character, still rough, but getting more refined every day.

“Wow, looks good,” he says, while Osric goes on with his crazy coding, not even lifting his head.

“Yeah, well, I can’t give him the expression I want to. He looks constipated, not determined,” Osric sighs.

Jared smiles. Osric can be a little obsessive in his quest to perfection. Their other full-time employee, Genevieve, chooses this moment to arrive, her arms full of the big drawing pads she carries everywhere with her. She’s the much-needed artistic side of the company, drawing designs and putting vague ideas on paper to give them life.

“Hey!” she says enthusiastically, dropping the pads on her desk. “Yay, fresh coffee!”

“Thank Osric for this,” Jared tells her.

She joins him in front of Osric's computer and frowns. The young man sighs and stops his coding all of sudden.

“Tell me the truth, Gen. Does he look determined, or constipated?”

“Hum…” Genevieve says.

“I knew it! A little help, maybe?”

Genevieve smiles and pats Osric on the shoulder. “Give me five minutes and I’m ready.”

She starts humming a song under her breath while getting her coat off, then filling a small watering can to water the plants. If it weren’t for her, they would have died from lack of attention a long time ago. 

Jared likes Gen. A lot. She began to work for them one year ago, and in the beginning, it was clear that she liked Jared too, and wished for more than just his friendship. Jared had come clean with her. That’s what Misha says is the best way to deal with his asexuality. Not only the best, but the most simple and clear. _No ambiguities, Jared._

Genevieve had understood, although there had been a couple of awkward weeks where they were bashful in front of each other, but it’s now a thing of the past. They’re friends, get along well, and for Jared, it’s more than enough. He can only hope that it’s enough for Genevieve too.

It’s Monday, which means Jared has to sit down and do some paperwork - not a thing he’s especially fond of, but it has to be done. Felicia and he share the less pleasant work, and this is Jared’s week. He settles at his desk and starts working with his earphones on, so as not to be disturbed by Genevieve and Osric’s discussion. An hour passes by before Felicia finally shows up to work, hair still wet from the shower, wearing her Grumpy Monday face. She still took the time to stop by the bakery to buy some croissants and cupcakes, so this whole I-hate-Mondays-act doesn’t impress anyone.

She kisses the top of Jared’s head and drops an apple turnover next to him. He smiles at her distractedly. He’s glad she’s doing better. Felicia got dumped by her two-years long boyfriend six months ago, and things have been rough for her. In Jared’s humble opinion, the guy had been an idiot for letting her go. Felicia deserves better than freaking Jake Higgins, aka I’m-a-serious-lawyer-slash-douchebag. Jared had never liked him.

It’s past ten when he decides to take a break. It’s a beautiful, warm day outside, and Jared wants to get out for a little while, wander off on the streets and enjoy the beginning of the summer.

In the elevator, he checks his cell phone for messages. He always turns it off when he’s working. Although Jared loves technology, he thinks his phone is a necessary nuisance he has to put up with. The thing is always buzzing and ringing with notifications, updates, and messages. 

There is only one new message in his voicemail. He doesn’t recognize the voice, husky and low, almost like the guy is whispering. “Huh, this message is for Jared Padalecki. My name is Christian Kane. You don’t know me, but I’m a friend of Jensen Ackles, and I’d appreciate if you’d call me back. Sooner than later.”

It is followed by Kane’s number. Jared stays immobile in the elevator, long enough that when he gets to the first floor, the doors open and close again. The “beep” signal gets him out of his shocked state. He quickly pushes to the open button and walks into the lobby, letting himself drop on one of the uncomfortable chairs before his legs give out.

During those five years where he hadn’t known Jensen’s whereabouts, there hasn’t been a day where Jared hasn’t thought about him. Sometimes it’s just floating at the back of his head, a soft but sad presence in his everyday life. Sometimes it’s more pronounced. Jared has talked about it with Misha a lot. The fact that he can’t be sure how his friend is doing has always been the worst. Some days, he’d convinced himself that Jensen is doing just fine, has moved on with his life, maybe even found his father. Most of the time, though, he worried. He’d tried to find him a couple of times on his own, but the second time he’d called Jensen's mother, she’d been so upset and sad that Jared stopped. 

The truth is, maybe he’s a coward. Comfortable in his life where everything is in order, familiar, safe. He should have done more to find Jensen.

This message from a stranger is the proof. If someone calls him about Jensen, and it's not Jensen himself, it can’t be good. It doesn’t surprise him but fills him with shame. Misha’s usual speech about Jensen not being his responsibility never felt right anyways.

With a shaking finger, Jared dials Christian Kane’s number and hits the send button with a feeling of dread. Jensen _has_ to be alright, that’s all he asks. That Jensen is still alive and breathing, wherever he is and doing. The rest isn’t important.

The same gruff voice answers on the second ring. “Jared Padalecki?” it says, sounding surprised.

“Hi. Hum. Yes, that’s me. Christian Kane? I got your message.”

“Okay. Well… Just… Give me a second here to gather my thoughts. Didn’t expect you to call back so soon.”

“Is Jensen okay?”

There is a second of silence at the other end of the line, enough for Jared to imagine the worst. His heart starts pounding in his chest. He takes a big, shuddering breath. “Oh god, is he-“

“Hey, no, it’s… He’s fine. Sort of.”

“What does sort of mean?” Jared asks irritably.

“Come on, man, let me talk, alright? This isn’t easy for me.”

“Right,” Jared whispers, trying to calm himself. “Sorry…”

“Okay, so, before I go into anything too personal, just hear me out. When Jensen and you had your… falling out, like five years ago, was it serious? I mean, do you still care about him or-“

“Of course I care,” Jared says quickly. “It was stupid anyway. I tried to call him, but he never returned any of my calls and… that’s it.”

“Well, I can see that happening,” Christian Kane answers cryptically. “Listen, I need your help, Jared. We don’t know each other, but you can check me out. I run a tattoo parlor called _Kane’s Ink,_ downtown Chicago. I have a Facebook page and a website.”

“Yeah, well, I wanna know about Jensen first, alright?”

“He’s… He’s been working for me, for the past five years. Tattoo artist. I even rent him the apartment at the back of the business. He’s not okay, and shit, I wanna help.”

“What do you mean by “not okay?”

“Drug problems.”

“Oh.”

“It doesn’t surprise you.”

Jared sights sighs, and bites on his thumbnail nervously. “No. It doesn’t.”

“It’s been getting worse over the past year. Opiates, especially.”

“Opiates?”

“Morphine, codeine, oxycodone, you see what I mean?”

Jared doesn’t really see, no. He does realize that Jensen is an addict, though, and it’s enough.

“He wants to quit?”

“Yeah, and he’s scared as hell. He did it once. Listen, Jared, I know we’re basically strangers, but I have to be frank with you, ‘kay?”

“Sure.”

“I didn’t know about what you and Jen went through when you were kids. Jensen just told me, two days ago. He also told me about you, a lot, how important you’ve been for him, and how much he misses you. And… that I couldn’t really understand what happened to you guys, even if I wanted to help. I think it was his way of asking for you.”

Jared closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. _You should have called, Jensen,_ he thinks, overwhelmed by anger all of sudden. _You should have gotten over this stupid misunderstanding and called me._

And he himself should have forced him to stay that night. Why hadn’t he tried harder?

“Is he in the hospital?” He hears himself ask.

“No. No… Jen doesn’t like those places.”

“Figures. I’m coming, alright?”

“Whoa. Hold your horses there, a bit. Don't you want to know more? I mean, you have a company to run and-“

“How do you know about this?”

“How do you think I found you? Did my little investigation over the weekend, read about you and this girl, success story of Providence. I wouldn’t have called just anyone. Finding you, that was the easy part. There is only one Padalecki family in your region. Talked to your mom this morning. Very nice lady.”

“She gave you my number?”

“Well, when I said it was about Jensen, she did, yeah. Said you’d never forgive her if she’d refused.”  
Jared feels a surge of love for his mother that blooms in his chest like a warm flower. He remembers how much she cared about Jensen. Still cares, as a matter of fact. And this feeling shifts into one of urgency, the physical need to see Jensen, to touch him, speak to him.

“What is it that you want me to do?” he asks.

::: :::

The rumble of Christian’s car engine is soothing, and barely twenty minutes on the road, Jensen finds himself fighting to stay awake. He doesn’t want to sleep, just wants to feel the numbness and detachment of the morphine one last time, slowly moving in his veins, thickening his blood like syrup. His thoughts are few and floating in his messed-up head, like nothing matters, not really.

He yawns, loudly. Christian casts a quick look at him and turns the music off.

“It’s an hour drive, if you wanna sleep.”

“M’fine,” Jensen answers thickly, turning his head toward the window.

Christian grunts something that he can’t quite hear and leaves the radio off. Good. Jensen just wants to keep on drifting and pretending that everything is okay. Reality will come back to bite him in the ass soon enough as it is.

 _I can’t do this_ , he thinks despite himself, and there, in the pit of his stomach, the first bout of anxiety takes its toll, because when the effects of M will wear off, he won’t have anything. Not even alcohol. He remembers last time: he’d gone to a community clinic to get help because he’d been scared. That’s something Chris doesn’t know -why he’d decided to quit last year. He’d been taking a cocktail of misties and valium and had gone too far; he'd passed out in his room, woke up some time later, his face resting in his own puke, knowing that he’d been lucky not to have died of an overdose or inhale his vomit and choke on it. The nurse at the clinic had given him Subutex to ease the withdrawal symptoms and had wanted to monitor him carefully. This meant too many complications, and Jensen had left, deciding to quit cold turkey. He doesn’t really remember the three days that followed, except that it’d been hell; that he’d felt constantly sick and had been convinced he was dying, and going crazy in the process. At some point, Christian had found him and helped. The aftermaths were worse, though, the feelings of depression and anxiety so acute Jensen had started drinking more, getting high on marijuana as often as he could, and then… He didn’t care anymore. He’d gone back to his much missed morphine without looking back, telling himself that he’d be reasonable.

Like he believed it.

And now, he’s supposed to be on board with the whole thing. Jensen knows he can’t go on like this. He sometimes thinks death would be sweet, like finally being able to rest after an never-ending run. He’s scared, though. He doesn’t believe in god, or in a sweet hereafter. He does believe in another sort of damnation. Jensen’s twenty two years old and hasn’t done anything worth remembering. Who would miss him besides Chris and Danni if he were to take his own life? That’s what scares him. Disappearing like he’s never really been there, leaving next to no trace except a few journal articles and a bad documentary about having been abducted and abused when he was young.

And then, of course, Benton Glass would win. Chris’ argument about the man is the only thing that makes sense in Jensen’s tired mind, the only valuable reason to keep on trying, to keep on living. 

This time, Christian is damn serious about the whole coming clean thing, and after Jensen had refused the clinic and some kind of transition drug to help him, something that he could get addicted to as well, he’d agree to go with it.

Christian is far from stupid. Jensen knows he’s learned a lot about drug addiction and withdrawal effects. He’d been honest with Jensen about everything he’d planned to do.

“We’re not doing it here. Not staying in your two room apartment. I don’t know how many pills and syrup and other shit you have hidden, but you must have, addicts always have a stash. And the streets… Well, you know the streets. It would be too easy for you to just go out when you can’t take it anymore and find someone ready to sell you some junk. I’ll ask Steve for his cabin near Wildwood Park. You know the place.”

Jensen does know the place. It’s a family-friendly complex of small cabins dispersed around Wildwood Lake. Steve and his wife invited them there a couple of times. It had been nice. Some strange pick to get a drug addict through the first stage of withdrawal, but Jensen gets it. It’s not like they will be isolated, giving Jensen a chance to run and hide or get lost -he kinds of loses it when he’s in withdrawal- but they will have some peace, more than downtown Chicago anyway. Plus, a family place means there won’t be some shady guy at each corner waiting to sell his dope. It’s clever.

“We’re leaving Friday morning, staying until at least Monday evening, maybe Tuesday. Danneel can take care of the few appointments I couldn’t cancel. We’ll pack some healthy shit to eat, no alcohol whatsoever, and those rehydration drinks for athletes, ya know. To keep you hydrated. I read that Dramamine could help with the nausea, so I’ll buy some, and Tylenol, but that’s the only drugs we’ll have with us. Well, you can have your cigarettes, but that’s it. Not even marijuana.”

Christian’s tone had been soft but firm, like Jensen hadn’t had a thing to say in the matter. And maybe he didn’t. He’d agreed to try, and for Chris to help him since he wouldn’t go to the community clinic. 

“When this will be over, we’ll find you a shrink, alright? A good one, someone who can help you deal. And you’re going to go to every appointment. That’s step two. Because if you’re clean, but still have to deal with whatever issues you have, you know what will happen, right? Just like last time, Jensen.”

Jensen had considered replying at this point -when exactly did Christian became such an expert in rehabilitation?- but had only agreed. He knows his friend is worried, and scared for him, still shaken by what he’d learned about Jensen’s past. Instead of feeling annoyed and irritated, Jensen should be glad someone cares for him enough to go through all this with him. He doesn’t even know what he’s done to deserve it. Doesn’t feel like he deserves it at all, to tell the truth.

 _If you’re doing this for Christian, no good will come out of this_ , he thinks, his eyes closing.

He doesn’t try to fight sleep this time.

_Do it for you, despite what you think -that you’re not worth it, that everything will probably end badly. Try. Because if you go on like this, Benton Glass wins._

That’s Jensen's last coherent thought before he lets the heavy, warm sleep of the drugs take him in its soothing arms.

::: :::

“Hey, Jen, we’re there.”

Jensen jerks awake. He was dreaming. Nothing he wants to remember, really. It’s hot in the car. He feels his t-shirt clinging to his chest, his hair drenched. There’s a foul taste in his mouth. Blinking against the sun, he reaches for his cigarettes in his pocket and lights one up, dragging a long, acrid puff before even trying to look around him.

“I’ve already put our stuff inside,” Chris goes on, snapping his fingers a few inches away from his face. “Come on, let’s get movin’.”

“Yeah…”

Jensen blinks again and pushes Christian away to get some air. He steps out of the car on wobbly legs, holding onto the door’s handle. Doesn’t feel good, he thinks, knowing it’s purely psychological. He’s not in withdrawal, not yet, it's too soon.

Stretching awkwardly, he finally takes a look around. The cottage is a few feet away, a small log cabin looking like a freaking painting, with the lake behind it, where the water shines under the sunlight.

There is another car parked in front of the cabin, and someone sitting on the steps of the porch. Jensen winces, the sun is making his eyes water, and he uses his hand to provide a shadow.

The man stands up and starts walking toward him. 

It’s Jared.

“Chris, what did you do?” Jensen asks in a feeble voice.

::: :::

Jared arrived at the cabin earlier than he thought he would. He’d been waiting nervously outside until a rusted old car arrived. The man who’d gotten out had to be Christian Kane. He’d shaken Jared’s hand and asked him to help with the luggage. Jensen had been asleep. “Better let him get as much rest as he can.” All Jared could catch of Jensen while helping Christian had been a tuft of faded red hair.

Now, though, Jensen is looking at him in shock, and Jared can measure the toll of what the last five years have done to him. He’s too thin, worn out, just like his clothes, wrinkled and faded. He’s got the same piercings, plus what seems to be a small black lizard tattooed on the side of his neck. His hair is dull and plastered on his head, a mix of bleached blond and orangey red. His face is more masculine than Jared remembers, the cheekbones prominent, the jaw more defined, but in the same time, it seem thinner, and the skin has this waxy aspect of someone who’s unhealthy.

“Jensen,” Jared says in a strangled voice, stepping toward him.

Jensen looks at him for one more second and closes his eyes slowly, bending his head down.

“Christian, why?” he asks in a tense voice.

“I thought it was a good idea,” Christian says, sounding helpless suddenly.

“You think it was a good idea? You… what? You called Jared and told him he had to come and take care of me? Fuck, I’m getting clean, you know how ugly it will be, and you…”

Jensen points an accusing finger towards the other man. “You had no right.”

Then, he walks right past them and goes inside the cabin, closing the door as hard as he can.

Christian swears under his breath and shoves his hands in his pockets, casting an uncertain look at Jared.

“Sorry, man.”

“No. I mean, we haven’t seen each other in five years, and he has the right to be upset.”

Jared thinks he could quickly learn to appreciate Kane. They’ve talked several times over the last five days, and he could tell how serious Christian was about helping Jensen, how worried he was. Now that he’s facing him, he knows he made the right judgment call. This man is as loyal as he’s determined, and the way he looks at Jensen is something Jared is familiar with, because his brother Jeff has always looked at him the same way.

“I think we should give him a few minutes,” Christian states, leaning against the side of his car. “He’s stressed out, because of the whole withdrawal thing. We should go easy on him.”

“Yeah,” Jared agrees because right now, he doesn’t want to make any decision without getting Christian’s advice. He’s been the one practically living with Jensen for the last five years. Jared is close to a stranger to his friend. He doesn’t have the slightest idea of what Jensen’s life had been like in Chicago. Of course, he’d asked some questions, but Christian had been almost reluctant to answer, stating that he preferred to wait and let Jensen talk to him, that he was already feeling guilty going behind his back. 

What he’d wanted to talk about was how they would proceed with the withdrawal. He’d been careful to tell Jared exactly what to expect when Jensen would start feeling the physical and psychological effects of the absence of the drugs. He hadn’t sugar coated it, and it had scared Jared.

He’d talked about it with Misha, wondering if any of this was dangerous for Jensen’s life. Misha had told him that no, that as long as Jensen was well hydrated, it would be far from pleasant, but not life-threatening. Then he had asked Jared if he was really serious about going to Chicago, a question that had surprised him. Of course he was serious; there hadn't even been a flash of hesitation in his mind after Christian’s first phone call. If Jensen needed him, what else was he supposed to do?

 

“You’re not listening. We went over this again and again, Jared. Jensen is not your responsibility. You’ve believed he is for a long time, which is normal, given that you took it upon yourself to care for him when you were both scared little kids trapped in a hideous situation. For you, it was a coping mechanism. You are not in that basement anymore, Jared, haven’t been for a long time, and if Jensen has decided to take some distance, then maybe you should let go too.”

“That’s not how it works,” Jared had answered, simply because he knew Misha Collins well enough to guess that he was worried about him, Jared, his patient. Misha has never seen Jensen, doesn’t know him, and has never been a witness to the bond that Jared has always felt strongly between himself and the younger man.

“You have my personal number,” Misha had finally said, sighing. “Please, if you need anything, call me.”

Seeing his psychologist's reaction, Jared had decided not to tell his parents about the reason for his trip, swearing Felicia to secrecy. She’s the only one who knows, excluding Misha, that Jared isn’t in Chicago for some technological convention. She’s been very supportive, but then again, she had known Jensen and Jared since they were all in high school. There is also the fact that she’s an awesome, selfless friend, always ready to stand up for Jared. He sometimes wonders if he’s doing enough on a daily basis to show her that he appreciates it.

“I’d like to go in and talk to him,” Jared tells Christian after a couple of minutes of thoughtful silence. “If you think it’s a good idea.”

Christian raises both hands in a helpless gesture. “I don’t know what’s between you guys. Just… go easy on him. He can be harsh sometimes when he’s really upset. Don’t let him push you away.”

“No. I never should’ve let him go five years ago. It’s more than time that I make amends.”

Jared finds Jensen in one of the first floor bedrooms, emptying his bag and laying all his clothing on the bed. A cigarette is slowly burning, trapped between his lips. Even though Jared is sure he must have heard him coming, Jensen keeps on going like he’s still alone.

“What are you doing?” he asks, leaning against the door frame.

“Chris will want to take a look at my things, make sure I haven’t brought anything with me. Drugs, I mean,” Jensen explains in a nervous voice, passing right by Jared to go drop his cigarette butt in the empty fireplace.

Jared follows him. “Jensen. It’s… It’s really nice to see you again.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Jensen smiles unhappily, going back into his room.

Jared follows. “I’m glad Christian called me.”

“You’re… glad.” Jensen repeats, turning his bag inside out.

He starts rearranging his clothes.

“Jensen, look at me.”

“I… can’t,” Jensen whispers.

He does stop his frenetic motions, though, and stands up very straight, his back to Jared. “Listen… I know you, Jared. Whatever Christian told you that made you feel like you had to come.. well, I’m sorry, okay? He shouldn’t have gone behind my back. You’re a great guy, and I’m sure you felt like you didn’t really have a choice. Christian shouldn’t have put you in this situation.”

“You think that’s why I’m here? That Christian somehow made me feel guilty enough so that I thought I didn’t have a say in the matter?”

Jared keeps his voice low and doesn’t make a move to touch Jensen, even though he wants to. Needs to.

“I came because I wanted to,” he goes on when Jensen doesn’t answer. “I came because you walked out on me five years ago, and I've missed you ever since. I want to fix whatever you think you broke last time. We were friends, Jensen.”

“Yeah, and your fucked-up friend tried to molest you,” Jensen says.

“Oh, come on, don’t be ridiculous. You kissed me and I didn’t react well. That’s all there was to it.”

Jared takes a step forward. Jensen’s shoulders are shaking. “It didn’t have anything to do with you. I… I can’t… Have a sexual relationship with anybody. Never could. Can’t even get it up. Asexuality, that’s what it’s called. And it’s probably a consequence of what happened to me, to us, when Glass had us prisoner.”

Jensen nods slowly. “Doesn’t change anything, Jared. I was a mess, even back then. And you… you did good. I didn’t want to drag you into my fucked-up life anymore. That’s why you should go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Jensen turns on his heels suddenly. He’s even paler than a few minutes before, his lips reduced to a thin line, his eyes flashing with anger and frustration. He crosses his arms. “Why?”

“Because that’s what friends do. They’re there for each other. And maybe… maybe I’m angry at you,” Jared adds. “You left and I’ve been worrying about you ever since. We were friends, and maybe you never realized it, but I needed you as much as you needed me.”

Jensen shakes his head slowly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. What do you think will happen here exactly? That we’ll talk about the good old times, open our fucking hearts to each other, hold hands like we used to do? I’m going to be in withdrawal in a few hours and it won’t be pretty, so you should go before it starts.”

Frustration builds in Jared’s head, making him feel twitchy and prickly all over. He tries to control himself, but it’s getting harder with every second that passes. Christian had warned him. He can’t let Jensen push him away.

“I know I’m not here for a vacation,” he says slowly. “And you know that whatever it is that makes you think you need to get high to run away from, I’m the one who can understand. That’s what you said to Christian, and it’s true. I’m staying, Jensen, not because Chris asked me. Because I want to. So, deal with it.”

“Great. Everything is just fucking great.”

Jared clears his throat and crosses his arms. “You really want me to walk out of here? Look at me in the eyes, tell me you never want to see me again.”

He’s shaking a little and hopes it doesn’t show. He’s scared of Jensen’s answer. Five years apart can mean a lot of changes, like they’ve been drifting off in different universes. Hell, even the last couple of years before Jensen had left, they’ve only seen each other twice. They’re basically strangers.

Except. Except it isn’t entirely true. There is still a bond between them -time and circumstances haven't changed a thing. Jared can only hope that Jensen will be able to recognize it as well.

Jensen is looking back at him, biting his bottom lip, completely silent. He opens his mouth twice before he finally murmurs something.

“What?” Jared asks.

“I can’t say it. You win. Happy?” Jensen groans aggressively. “I don’t fucking know what I want, Jared, I don’t even know what I’m doing here except that if I don’t try, he wins.”

“Whom? Christian?”

Jensen snorts and drags a hand over his face, hiccupping like he’s about to cry, but his eyes are dry. “No. The b-… Glass. Benton Glass wins.”

The name makes Jared’s skin crawls. It always does, and coming back to his him is the memory of the damp smell of the basement, the stink of macerated urine and feces, vomit, misery. And Jensen’s cold hand sliding into his.

“I’m sorry,” Jared rasps.

“For what? We were both there, remember?” Jensen snorts, then tries to smile, but it breaks, and this time, a tear slides down his cheek.

“I’m glad to be here with you,” Jared repeats. It’s the only thing that comes to his mind at the moment because he’s close to crying too.

“You’re an idiot,” Jensen whispers, but there is affection in his voice, and he’s the one to initiate the hug, grabbing Jared by the shoulders and holding him close.

Jared hugs back, as strongly as he can. Maybe he’s as disturbed and upset as Jensen, maybe he doesn’t have the faintest clue as to how to help him. It doesn’t matter. That vague, empty space Jensen left at the back of his mind five years ago is gone. He wouldn’t want it any other way.


	8. Chapter 8

There is an awkward moment right after Jared and Jensen stop hugging. Almost immediately, Jared feels Jensen pulling back, like he’s withdrawing someplace inside of him where his feelings aren’t that raw. “I should help Chris putting everything away,” Jensen says, clapping his hands together. “This is a nice place, you’ll like it. Belongs to Christian’s friend, Steve. We came here for the first time, I think it was…”

Jensen babbles, and Jared follows him through the cabin. It is a nice place. Jensen has settled into what appears to be the principal bedroom; the other is larger and holds two twin beds. 

“You can take one of them. And I know, awkward. I would let you have the other bedroom, but Christian will say that I need my space, and arguing with him is senseless. Trust me, I know.”

“I don’t mind taking one of the-“

“Great, so you can put your stuff here. Meanwhile, I’ll go put the groceries in the fridge.”

Jensen leaves Jared there with his luggage. He’s nervous, on edge, which is a Jensen that Jared is more familiar with. He figures that, if he was about to go into withdrawal, he would feel the exact same way. He decides to give Jensen some space and sits on his bed, opening his laptop to check his emails with the free Wi-Fi connection provided by the Lake Resort. 

A few minutes later, he hears Christian walking into the house. Jensen and he are speaking, their voices too low for Jared to hear what they’re saying. He takes the opportunity to look once more at all the documentation he has downloaded about opiate withdrawal. Although Christian told him about it, and said he’d know how to deal with it, Jared felt better doing his own research. He's never had any experiences with drugs whatsoever. The wildest thing he's ever seen is Felicia smoking pot and then eating a whole box of cheerios. Which is pretty mild –and funny as hell, now that he thinks about it.

He goes through the list of symptoms once again. It starts like the person is coming down with a cold, then there are muscle aches and pains, vomiting, diarrhea, sweats, agitation, anxiety and panic attacks. It varies from one user to the other, depending on age and physical health as well as the length and severity of the addiction. It usually starts a few hours after the final dose and lasts for three to five days, although the psychological effects can last longer –weeks or months. 

It’s scary as hell. Maybe that’s why Jared keeps on rereading the information, to have the illusion of control over what’s about to happen. Misha keeps telling him that he can’t control everything, that all of his efforts to achieve it are vain.

“You’ve never left your hometown. You’re surrounded by people you trust, family and a few carefully chosen friends. You run every morning, you go to bed at the same hour every night. You don’t go out much. You are comforted by your routine.”

“Is it bad?” Jared had asked.

“It’s not… bad, per se. We all want to control certain aspects of our lives, but we have to be prepared for the unpredictable, the unknown. That’s what I want you to work on. Accept the fact that you can’t control everything.”

Easier said than done. Jared closes his laptop and sighs. He is in one of those unpredictable situations, and yes, he feels helpless. He’d told Christian on the phone that he didn’t have any experience with drug addiction, which had made the man laugh. “Hey, all I’m asking is that you be there to comfort him. That’s what Jen will need. That, and someone to yell at when it’s going to become too hard for him. Think you can do it? The rest is basically common sense.”

“I snore,” Christian warns, entering the room and making Jared jump. “It's a little awkward, I know, but the other bedroom is closer to the bathroom. Plus, Jensen needs his space.”

He throws his bag on his bed and sits, stretches his hands in front of him and cracking the knuckles.

“It’s okay.”

“Jensen is in his room, listening to music and trying to get a little rest.”

“Alright.”

“He was mad at me. For dragging you into this.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I told him, though, that you hadn’t forced my hand.”

Christian still looks doubtful. “I don’t know.”

“No, seriously. Thanks for calling me. I want to be here.”

“Okay, good.”

Christian starts rummaging through his stuff. Jared has already noticed his habit of cutting conversations short. He figures, if it hadn’t been for the reason he’d called Jared in the first place, he would have been even less chatty.

“So it’s… what… ten thirty?” Christian asks matter-of-factly, looking at his watch. “I know Jen took stuff this morning before we left, so we still have probably until dinner before the withdrawal really starts. Maybe a little sooner, since I think he uses more than when he stopped the first time.”

“I’m… nervous,” Jared admits. 

“Don’t be, you’ll be just fine,” Christian says, patting him on the back. “Come on, want to see the lake? It’s pretty awesome.”

“Hum… okay.”

Jared wonders why. Aren’t they supposed to stay inside and watch Jensen, waiting for the inevitable to happen? He doesn’t feel like doing anything as useless as walking alongside the lake under the sunny sky.

“You know,” Christian says, scrutinizing him, “we should enjoy the quietness while it lasts. We’ll have enough drama for a lifetime before everything is over.”

He’s right. Jared nods and follows him.

::: :::

Christian is definitely not a talker, but their small walk alongside the lake is nice. When they come back, Jensen is waiting for them, sitting on the porch and smoking a cigarette. He looks fidgety, but not worse than earlier. Maybe it’s a good sign. Jared hopes it is.

They eat an early lunch, making themselves sandwiches. Christian asks a couple of question about Jared’s company, and soon enough they’re talking without too much awkwardness. Jared can’t help but notice how little Jensen eats. His sandwich is intact on his plate, and he’s been munching on a baby carrot for several minutes.

“Do you feel sick?” Christian asks him, like he’s followed Jared’s exact chain of thoughts.

“No, not yet,” Jensen says, keeping his head toward his plate. “Just not hungry.”

“You should eat while you can.”

“Jesus, Chris, stop the mother henning already,” Jensen complains. “I’m keeping myself hydrated, see?” He points at the large glass of water next to him. “God, all of this… this was a bad idea.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone,” Chris raises both hands. “Sorry.”

“No, you… don’t have to apologize. I’m being a jerk.”  
There is so much tension in the room Jared just can’t stand it. “Did you know I am an uncle?” he asks Jensen out of the blue.

Both men look at him like he’s just grown a second head. A soft smile then quirks Jensen’s lips up.

“Jeff?” he asks.

“Yeah, a little boy. Logan. He’s two years old.”

“Wow. Jeff’s still working at that huge ass lawyer firm?”

“Yeah, still in California. And Meggie is in college at Stanford. She's been living with Jeff and his wife since last year. Studying to be a psychologist. She says it’s because of me. Wants to help people who went through what we went through.”

“It’s… great,” Jensen trails off, and there is this long awkward moment during which Jared curses himself silently for bringing it up. 

“Well, Jensen here is my best tattoo artist,” Christian says with an unnatural enthusiasm, patting Jensen’s back. 

“Shut up, there’s just me, you and Danni,” Jensen laughs despite of himself.

“Still.”

“This one, who did it?” Jared asks, pointing the lizard on the side of Jensen’s neck. 

“Chris. You like it?”

“Yeah.”

“Ever thought of getting a tattoo?”

Jared winces. He’s always been scared of needles. “No.” 

“I could tattoo you,” Jensen offers, obviously enjoying Jared’s horrified expression.

“… Yeah, why not?” Jared smiles nervously.

“You never could say no to me, could you?” 

There is equal affection and sadness in Jensen’s tone. Jared blushes under his gaze, not knowing how to answer to that.

“Jared always put up with my bullshit,” Jensen explains to Christian. “And I thanked him by running off on him.”

“Jen,” Christian says softly.

“No, it’s true. I mean, we’re here today because of me, right? Chris, you put up with my bullshit too. For five years. Let’s be honest.”

Jensen drops his half munched baby carrot on his plate and crosses his arms. 

“I didn’t put up with your bullshit because I had to,” Christian grunts. “We’re friends, right?”

“You shouldn’t have run,” is what Jared says. “I’ve been worrying about you ever since. But that’s because I missed you. Like I’ve said, I’m not here because Chris dragged me into this.”

Jensen snorts. “Yeah, well, I don’t see why.”

“Shit, we’re not gonna sit and just listen you denigrate yourself,” Christian says, standing up with his plate. 

He walks away to the counter and starts cleaning the dishes, making as much noise as possible. Jensen shakes his head and lights up a cigarette. “Great,” he whispers.

“I saw a deck of cards in my room, wanna play?” Jared asks, and it’s probably stupid, but he remembers they used to play crazy eights sometimes when Jensen used to visit. Jared’s mom had taught them the game, and Jensen always enjoyed it.

“Crazy eights, right?” Jensen says, looking relieved. “Alright, if you really want to get your ass handed to you.”

“You wish.”

They clear the table and settle down with the deck of cards. They have trouble remembering some of the rules, and after a while, Christian stops brooding at the counter and joins the conversation, stating the rules loud and clear. They play for a while without talking too much. Jensen wins most of the games, which doesn’t surprise Jared because he’s always been good at it. As it turns out, Christian is a sour loser, which also doesn’t surprise him.

It’s almost two in the afternoon when Jensen drops his cards on the table and stands up without warning, shaking one leg, than the other.

“Shit, it’s starting,” he whispers.

“Cramps?” 

“Yeah… Fuck.”

“How long since your last dose? Six, seven hours?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, alright.” Chris is all business now. “Want to try and walk it off a little?”

“Maybe we should… It was a bad idea,” Jensen looks at Christian, wincing in pain, his eyes pleading. It’s hard to watch. “I want to go back, Chris. I need-“

“Hey, whoa.” Chris stands up and put his hands on Jensen’s shoulders. “You’re anxious because it’s starting, that’s all. We knew it would come to this. Can you take a couple of deep breaths for me?”

“No, I can’t!” Jensen replies, freeing himself from Christian’s grip. 

He paces back and forth in the kitchen, wiping his hands on his jeans. Jared sees a film of sweat forming on his forehead. “I’m sorry,” Jensen adds almost immediately. “It’s… you’re right. We should get out, take a walk. I need to move. Holy shit, it hurts.”

“Okay, then, let’s get out of here.” Christian agrees, looking relieved. “You comin’ Jared?”

“Yeah.”

There is a wooden sidewalk circling the lake, and it’s busy on this sunny afternoon. Children are running around under the eyes of their parents. Teenagers are there as well, sitting on some of the benches scattered on the side, standing in groups. Two skateboarders pass next to them, their wheels making a deafening noise on the wooden planks. Jared sees the look the others give them: they don’t fit. Christian looks wild with his long hair and his leather jacket, his heavy boots. Jensen is tucked between him and Jared, pale as a sheet, smoking nervously. The piercings on his face, his tattoo and the color of his hair makes those nice families turn away, or hold their kids close to them. Jared wonders what they would think, knowing that Jensen was here to get clean, and it annoys him, the silent judgment the others give them. _Yeah_ , he thinks, as a young woman pushing a stroller literally plasters herself against the handrail; _it’s so easy to fear someone who’s practically defenseless, too busy fighting his own demons to make anything of the reaction of the people around him._

“Too many people,” Jensen says unsurprisingly, after barely ten minutes. “I don’t feel good. Let’s go back, alright?”

He drags the sleeve of his shirt under his nose and sniffs. There's the cold-like symptoms, Jared notes mentally. Christian is already turning on his heels, giving a look at Jared that clearly means they’re getting to the real stuff. “…Right, let’s get back.”

“M’gonna take a shower,” Jensen announces as soon as they’re back inside. 

“Just leave the door unlocked,” Chris tells him, which makes Jensen snap.

“Fuck, you’ve been through my stuff. I don’t have anything on me, you know it. Can’t I have a little privacy?”

Christian remains admirably calm. “No, not when you’re getting clean. Sorry.”

“Yeah, right,” Jensen snarls with disdain, wiping his nose with his sleeve once more. “You’re enjoying it, aren't you? I’m not your fucking kid, Chris.”

“I know,” he replies stoically.

Jensen stares at him another second, then he goes into his room and grabs some clothes before disappearing in the bathroom. Christian waits in silence to hear the lock, but a few seconds later, the shower starts running. He sighs and brushes his hair back, looking at Jared with a curious expression on his face.

“I think I should go,” he says very slowly.

“What?” Jared doesn’t even try to hide the surprise in his voice. “Why? That’s not what we planned.”

“I know, but I think it would be better this way. Jensen is… he’s aggressive toward me. I’m not taking it personally. Right now, he doesn’t need me. He needs you. We… we see each other on a daily basis and he’s my employee. He must have the impression he owes this to me, in a way, because I told him he soon wouldn’t be able to work for me anymore if he kept going. I don’t want our relationship to mess with him during a time like this.”

“But you’ve been through this with him once. I don’t have any experience-“

“Listen to me,” Christian cuts in. “Last time, he was already halfway through the worst part of the withdrawal when I found him. He wasn’t in good shape –far from it - but all I did was to be there for him. I’m not a nurse, this isn’t a science… And I think what Jensen really needs right now is someone who can understand him.”

“I don’t understand him better than you do,” Jared says, but all it does is make Christian even more impatient.

“Of course you do. You were there with him, when this fucking bastard did all those things to you guys. Do you really think this is only about the fucking morphine addiction? That's just the most urgent matter, that’s all. Jensen hasn’t been happy once since I’ve known him. And it sounds incredibly melodramatic, but it’s the truth. I hired him because he would’ve ended up on the streets. The drugs, it’s just his way of dealing, and for the life of me, I can’t think that what happened to him when he was young doesn’t have anything to do with the way he’s been destroying himself ever since. He drinks, ya know… And recently he started sniffing cocaine and using X as well. He has these periods where he goes out every night, sleeping around, boy or girl, it doesn’t matter. Like… his body is worth nothing, like all it’s good for is to be used.”

Jared nods, although he knows damn well he doesn’t really get the extent of Jensen’s problems. He always knew, even when he’d been a kid, that Jensen wasn’t dealing well with the aftermath of their kidnapping. Did he really think it would simply get better with time?

“I’m not strong like you, Christian,” he feels the need to add. “I’m dealing with my own issues.”

“You deal, that’s the difference. Jensen doesn’t.”

“Well, he never could! His mother stopped him from seeing a psychologist barely a month after we were found, and then he had to starve himself for her to allow us to still see each other. She took him away from me, damn it! And every time he would come to visit, I knew he wasn’t alright, but there was nothing I could do, nothing at all!”

Jared is surprised by the anger he’s feeling. All those things, he’s always known them, but it’s the first time he really sees them for what they are, through the eyes of an adult. Growing up, there had been a lot he hadn’t understood, simply because he couldn’t. His feelings toward Jensen had been instinctive. The need to protect him, to ease his pain, to make him smile, just like he’d done in Glass’ basement.

They’re not there anymore. They’re not kids, and if Jared doesn’t allow himself to see Jensen’s problems for what they are, he’s basically denying where he himself is coming from.

“I tried, you know,” he tells Christian in a murmur. “I tried, in that basement, to make it better, but Glass was… He almost never took me in the end. It was always Jensen. And sometimes I was relieved because I didn’t have to be in this damn room , naked and fucked, and then I would hate myself for feeling relieved because Jensen was a baby, and I should’ve… Why did it always have to be so difficult for him, damn it. It’s so unfair.”

“Man, you were seven, you were a baby yourself,” Christian says, patting Jared awkwardly on the back. “But see, this is what I’m talking about. You guys, you have something. Right now, I know Jensen must feel under pressure, because we’re both there watching him. And if one of us should stay, I think it should be you.”

Jared does understand what Christian is telling him, but he’s scared as hell he won't be able to give Jensen whatever he needs. He considers asking the older man for some time to call his psychologist, then realize how stupid it would sound and remains silent, helpless, unable to make a decision on his own.

“Listen, I’m not gonna like… abandon you guys. I live an hour away from here,” Christian insists. “I can even come back tonight, if it’s getting too tough. I just… I just want what’s best for Jensen.”

“Me too,” Jared whispers. 

::: :::

It courses through his arms and legs like small electric shocks, no matter how much time he spends under the hot spray. It doesn’t relieve him, not a bit. And the need is there as well, prickling under his skin, raw and whole and making it difficult to think about anything other than how easy it would be to drop this whole thing and head back to Chicago. He still has a couple of pills stashed somewhere at his apartment. He always has. Addicts are so predictable.

 _I’m an addict_ , he thinks, and laughs nervously, lifting his head toward the spray.

Jared probably wouldn’t object if Jensen were to call the whole thing off. He wouldn’t want to fight, doesn’t know the extent of his habit. Christian… well, the hell with Chris. He doesn’t have any kind of right over Jensen. He’s not his fucking father, he’s…

Jensen curses as another muscle cramp makes his left leg shake uncontrollably. He’s not thinking straight. Chris has always been there for him.

“I just want it to stop,” he whispers in a raw voice. 

Even though the water is hot, he starts shivering. His nose is running, his tongue feels thick and alien. He’s tired, wants to lie down and forget everything.

The withdrawal won’t let him, he knows.

He gets out of the shower and quickly dries himself, then put his clothes on: his oldest, most comfortable pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. His teeth are still chattering, the cramps in his arms keep him from wrapping them around himself. He moans. Putting his socks on seems like an immeasurable effort. When he’s done, his heart is beating hard and fast in his chest. 

He blows his nose a couple of time with a wad of toilet paper, then sighs deeply, ready to face Christian and Jared again. He tries to brace himself, tries to gather some calm even though he feels anything but. 

It’s quiet in the cabin. Jensen walks into the kitchen-living room space and sees Jared there, sitting on the couch, his whole body tense. He smiles nervously at Jensen.

“How do you feel?”

“Like crap,” Jensen grumbles, his voice scratchy. “Where’s Chris?”

“He, huh… “ Jared rubs his face with his hand and clears his throat. “He left.”

“What?”

“He thought… He said it would be best if he left us alone.”

“What?”

Jensen’s head is buzzing with the effort he makes to try and understand Christian’s motivations. He sits on the couch, tucking his hands in the sleeves of his shirt. He’s sweating and feels cold at the same time. “Why? Fuck, I’ve been a jerk with him, that’s why.”

“No. He said that it would be easier for you without him, but to call if… We can call him, you know, we can call him right now.” Jared says nervously.  
Jensen shakes his head. “I… it’s okay. But if you don’t feel comfortable here with me-”

“I’m fine,” Jared says a little too quickly. “I’m fine. Hey, you look like you’re cold, want me to get you a blanket? And Christian said he’d bought some tissues. Hey. Stay there. I’ll get it for you.”

He stands up quickly, trying for a smile that’s more of a grimace than anything else. Jensen thinks about protesting, or calling him back, tell him to relax: they don’t have to do this if Jared doesn’t want to. Instead, he simply closes his eyes. God, he’s tired.

Jared drops a Kleenex box next to him and handles him a folded blanket. It’s soft. Jensen wraps himself into it and, with Jared bent over him, looking with caring eyes, he feels safe for a little bit.

“What can I do?”

“Nothing, Jared. Just… Sit with me. M’fine.”

Right at that moment, Jensen’s right leg jerks painfully. He groans. “This part I hate.”

“Do you want me to massage it, something?”

“I don’t know if it’ll change anything,” Jensen croaks.

“Let’s try it, okay?”

Jared sits at the other end of the couch and takes Jensen’s leg, unfolding it softly until Jensen’s foot is resting on his thighs. He starts massaging the calf, over the jeans, softly, his tongue sticking out of his lips. _He’s always done this when he’s concentrating,_ Jensen thinks fondly. 

The muscles in his leg starts to relax. It feels so good that, for a moment, Jensen thinks he’ll burst out crying from the relief. 

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Jared asks, keeping his voice low.

“No. Not at all. Feels good.”

Jensen wraps himself more tightly in the blanket. He can almost forget the pain and the need running through his veins. Jared’s touch is soothing, calming. Just like before.

::: :::

Less than five minutes after Jensen closes his eyes while letting Jared massage his leg, he falls asleep. His head is lying back against the armrest. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, shivering and moaning from time to time, but he’s out for the count.

Jared waits another ten minutes, doesn’t dare to move. He read that going into withdrawal causes irritation and insomnia. If Jensen can still sleep now, he needs it.

Jared goes to sit on the porch and write a short email to Felicia, just to reassure her. He doesn’t mention everything that has happened since he’s arrived in Chicago, just that he and Jensen are okay. He feels like what is happening only belongs to the both of them.

It’s strange, how much calmer he is now that Christian is gone. It’s not that the man had upset him in any way. He likes Christian, can tell how important Jensen is to him, and maybe he was right about leaving the two of them together. Jared can’t rely on him anymore, he has to step up and be whatever Jensen needs him to be. The absence of choice is comforting instead of frightening.

Jared goes back inside. It’s almost five o’clock. He should think about dinner. Christian has left a lot of provisions, advising him to encourage Jensen to eat while he still can.

Casting a look at his friend to reassure himself that he’s still sleeping, Jared cuts up some vegetables and empties a can of soup in a cooking pot. Then he sits down next to Jensen, just watching him.

Maybe if he’d tried harder, maybe if he himself hadn’t been that young, he could’ve done something before Jensen ended up withdrawing from a morphine addiction at the tender age of twenty-two. They’re both still so young, thinking of it. How come so many bad things can happen to someone who’s barely out of his teens?

_Stop thinking too hard. You’re here now, and maybe you can make a difference._

Jensen starts moaning in his sleep, a soft, almost inaudible noise. Jared watches him closely as his relaxed features begin to tense, his cheeks reddening. His body is wracked by a violent shiver, his forehead suddenly covered in sweats. “Mom,” he rasps, turning his head from left to right. “Don’t.” 

Jared puts a hand on Jensen’s thigh, shaking it softly. “Hey, Jen, you’re dreaming.”

Jensen gasps and stops moving all of sudden, his eyes opened wide. He curses under his breath and wipes the sweat from his forehead, trying to sit up at the same time. “Right,” he murmurs. “Just a dream.”

It takes him some time, breaking through the wall of sleep. He blinks repeatedly, sneezes and blows his nose. He then pushes the blanket away. His shirt is clinging to his chest and still, he looks hot and uncomfortable. He wraps his arms around himself before casting a look at Jared.

“Feel like crap,” he admits.

“How is the muscle pain?”

“Not worse, but still hurts like hell.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m not hungry,” Jensen sights, dipping his head in the crook of his hands. “Fuck, I need some Oxy, I need some, Jared.”

“Oxy is-“

“It’s morphine!” Jensen cuts out. “I won’t get through this.”

“You did it once, Jensen.”

Jensen kicks the blanket away from his feet and stands up all of sudden. “You have no idea what it’s like,” he says without any anger, just desperation. “I need it.”

“I think we should try to eat. Chris said that you won’t be able to keep anything sooner or later and-“

“I don’t want to eat, I want it to stop hurting, fuck!” Jensen moans, pacing nervously in the room, sniffing, his arms still wrapped around himself.

“I’m going to heat up the soup,” Jared tells him.

Be firm. That’s what all those documents were advising. Gentle but firm. The person in withdrawal can be aggressive and hold you responsible for his misery. Don’t let it impress you and don’t take it personally.

So Jared prepares dinner while Jensen paces back and forth, settles everything on the table, and waits.

“Come on, let’s eat.”

Jensen casts him a dark look, but sits at the table with him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”

“Nothing to apologize for.”

“Of course,” Jensen groans, trying to get a spoonful of soup to his mouth without spilling it. His hand is shaking. 

“Need some help?”

“I’m not that desperate yet,” Jensen swallows, wincing all the while. “Hum, not sure this is going to sit well.”

“Just take whatever you can, s’better than nothing.”

Jensen smiles a little and grabs a celery stick. “Just like the good old times, right? You used to coax me to eat when we were trapped in the basement. Except the days when Glass got us those sickening sweet meals. Then you… you watched me eat and you tried to get me to slow down, but I was so hungry. And in the end you ate too.”

“Sometimes, he would let two whole days go by without feeding us.”

“I’ve never been a fan of pastries afterward,” Jensen says, his eyes looking far away. “Go figure.”

There is a quiet moment when they both eat almost peacefully. Soon enough, though, Jensen pushes his bowl away and drops the celery stick he barely munched on.

“Sorry, I can’t.”

“You tried.”

“Jared?”

“Yeah?”

Jensen clears his throat. His voice is thick, congested. “What happened that night at your place…”

“Jen, we don’t have to-“

“No. I need to say this, okay? I was high, I was scared and so messed up in the head I could barely think straight. I shouldn’t have done what I’ve done. Going down on you like that… I thought…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jared answers, and all of sudden, he’s not that hungry anymore. “The thing is, Jensen, you never let me explain why I reacted that way. You took off. I was so worried. You never thought I would worry? Five years, not knowing where you were, if you were okay. That's what always bothered me.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Jensen protests. “It was like… every time I would come and visit, I’d see how good you were doing and… when we got older, I realized how different our lives were. I mean, you had friends, and your awesome family, you were doing good in school and I had the impression I was messing with it, each time I came.”

“I never thought that.”

Jensen smiles. “Of course you wouldn’t. You always put me in front of everything else, always let me have my way. And after you pushed me away that night, I told myself I had messed with you enough. It was unfair for you. You were better off without me.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“I thought I was in love with you. Sometimes I think I still am, ya’ know. What I feel for you, I never came close to feeling this for anyone else.”

Jared doesn’t know how to answer to that. Jensen doesn’t seem to realize the enormity of his declaration, probably because he’s barely holding it together, fighting the need to take morphine. Take the pain away. Now that he’s sobering up, it must be there, rising at the surface, all those memories and emotions. Christian had told him Jensen felt he couldn’t be at peace, or stop thinking, when he was sober.

“I’m whoring myself, Jared,” Jensen admits, lowering his eyes. “I sleep around, I need sex, constantly. The thrill and the pleasure. You wouldn’t believe the situations I get myself into. And still, when I get fucked, or when I fuck someone, I feel it, the pleasure coming, but it’s like I can never reach it completely, and it only leaves me wanting more.”

“Jensen-“

“No, no, I want you to know the kind of guy I am. You’ve always seen me like the little boy in that basement, but I’m far from being an innocent kid. I’ve stolen, I’ve broken my mother’s heart, I’ve lied, I…”

“So what? It’s not like you had it easy,” Jared protests, feeling anger crawling under his skin.

“You neither, and look at you!” Jensen protests.

He goes to fetch his cigarette pack and lights one, then lean against the counter, shifting from one foot to the other. “You’re a college graduate with your own company. You’re… healthy. You look happy.”

“I won’t say that my issues can compare to yours, but trust me, I do have some. I’ve never had any kind of sexual relationship, and it’s something I’m missing. I’ll spend my life alone, Jensen. I still have nightmares, you know. And I need to control everything around me, and I can’t even allow myself to have a drink with friends because I’m scared as hell of losing this freaking control. I’m still seeing a psychologist. It’s been seventeen years, and I’m seeing a goddamn psychologist every other week.”

“Considering it all, you’re doing good, Jared,” Jensen says softly. “We’re different. I’ve never had your strength.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You never received the support I had. It’s… I was lucky, that’s all. And I love you too, by the way.”

The declaration slipping out punches Jared’s breath away. He never gave it any thought before actually letting it out and it shocks him, deeply. His feelings for Jensen have always been intense; nothing could live up to them, even his siblings and parents. Even with Felicia. Love, though, the kind of love he’d want to give Jensen, he’ll never be able to. Not only because of his physical incapacity, but because of the circumstances during which those feelings were born. Can you be in love with someone who’s been through the same ordeal, with the shadow of a monster forever hovering nearby, without it getting tainted and poisonous, sick, even?

Jensen is looking at him with his red-rimmed eyes, the cigarette smoking itself between his shaking fingers. 

“I love you too,” Jared repeats, trying to give a sense to the words. “But I can’t… I’ll never be able to give you more than… Fuck, forget it. What we’re doing here, it’s about you, not about me. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Jensen murmurs. “No. I’m glad you told me.”

He snorts nervously and run a hand through his hair. “I think I’ll take another shower. I’m covered in sweat and I stink.”

He passes by Jared and presses his shoulder. “And I won’t lock myself in.”

Christian calls, meanwhile, and Jared tells him that they are alright. Considering.

He believes it.


	9. Chapter 9

Jensen knows, as soon as he’s out of the shower, that things are going downhill quickly. He tries to dress himself, but his hands are shaking badly. It's so hard to concentrate that he ends up sitting on the closed toilet lid, his damp towel barely covering his dick and thighs. A rush of saliva fills his mouth, his stomach starts hurting –the ache feels like it’s trying to digest itself.

He has the dread feeling that he’s going to die from the need. A dose, even a light one, would settle everything. _Please,_ he thinks, _please I need…_

“Jensen?”

The knock on the door makes him jump. Maybe he said the words out loud.

Doesn’t matter. At this point, he feels too bad to protest.

“Can you help me?” he asks, and it hurts his irritated throat, the clear snot that isn't dripping out of his nose sliding into the back of it.

“Of course, I’m coming in.”

Jared pushes the door open and walks in, his huge, comforting presence calming the aches in Jensen’s mind. _Jared’s gonna take care of you, he thinks dully. Always does._

“What do you need?” Jared asks, concerned, while crouching in front of him.

“I think I should take some Dramamine right now while I still can keep it down,” Jensen explains, trying to prevent his teeth from chattering. “It’s okay, it’s… For nausea, Chris bought some.”

“Yeah, I know, he told me about it. Wait here, I’ll be back.”

And he’s quick, or maybe Jensen is just losing it, because suddenly two pills are pressed into his hand and a bottle of Gatorade handed to him. 

Jensen has a hard time swallowing the stuff, his stomach clearly not happy with the blue Gatorade, but still. He’ll keep it down.

“Thanks,” he says in a tired voice.

“You’re shivering,” Jared says, concerned. “Want me to help you get dressed?”

Jensen tries to smile, but the effort hurts and forces the muscles to tense up. He just nods instead.

It goes smoothly. Jared starts with the socks and then the boxers and the sweatpants. He helps Jensen up, still silent, and tells him to hold on to his waist while he gets everything pulled up. Jensen’s legs are shaking by the time he’s done. He’s happy to sit back and let Jared manhandle him into his t-shirt.

“There,” Jared tells him, shoving a bunch of tissues in his hand. 

And yeah, Jensen’s nose is running constantly now. He blows it as much as he can, but it still feels full and wet afterward. And his head starts to hurt.

“You don’t want to put on a sweatshirt? You’re still shivering,” Jared asks.

“I want a cigarette, and I want to lie down and sleep for three days, and I want the blanket and maybe a fire in the fireplace.”

Jared smiles at him. “Okay, your bed or the couch?”

“Couch.”

“That can be arranged.”

Jared helps him up and keeps a hand around his waist while walking him to the couch. He tucks the blanket around him, brings him his cigarettes and an ashtray. Jensen smiles and feels a little better despite all the aches and pain, despite the need. A moment later, there is a fresh box of Kleenex next to him, and Jared is bending down in front of the fireplace. 

“Hey, Jay. I was joking. I’m cold, but it’s warm in here. You’re going to be too hot if you make a fire.”

“I can deal,” Jared replies.

Time is strangely twisted, and Jensen lets his misery overtake him. The shivers, the aches, his stomach churning, his sinuses blocked. Anxiety comes and goes in waves, the need as well, like bouts of nausea that don't evolve in anything more.

The fire is crackling. Jensen doesn’t know how long Jared has been at it, but it’s getting dark outside.

He looks at the flames, at Jared’s tall frame standing next to them. His eyes are watering. He rubs them absentmindedly with a Kleenex and sighs, hiccupping a dry sob that drags Jared’s attention back to him.

“How are you holding up?”

“I don’t know.”

“You should hydrate yourself, with all that sweating you could dehydrate quickly. I’ll get you some Gatorade.”

“No. Just… plain water. Gatorade makes me nauseous.”

“Okay.”

Jared comes back with a pitcher full of water and his laptop. He settles the items on the coffee table in front of him. “There’s no TV here,” he explains, pouring Jensen a glass and handing it over to him. Jensen takes it with both hands, careful not to spill. The condensation on the glass makes his mouth water. He sips a couple of mouthfuls and puts the glass back on the table, careful not to upset his stomach too much.

“I have movies we could watch on my laptop, help us pass the time. I remember you like those old, black and white ones so I uploaded a couple before I left.”

“Really?”  
Jared doesn’t forget anything, ever. It makes Jensen wanna cry again, and he swallows loudly, trying to keep it together. This is the withdrawal: everything is raw, painful, acute. It’ll pass.

It will pass. Jensen has been through this before. 

“So, I have… _Creature from the Black Lagoon, The Mummy’s Tomb, The Blob, the Fly-“_

“That old one with Vincent Price?”

“Well…” Jared frowns, “it’s in black and white, so-“

“Definitely _The Fly._ ”

Jensen lights up a cigarette and tries to settle as comfortably as he can while Jared queues the movie up. He then sits very upright, careful not to touch Jensen. Jensen tries to concentrate on the movie, but he needs Jared to be closer. He needs to feel safe. Doesn’t know how to ask for it. He’s feeling too bad to give it much thought, though, so he stumps his cigarette out in the ashtray and gets closer to Jared, until they’re sitting with their hips and thighs touching. 

“You want me to hold you?” Jared asks simply.

“Yes,” Jensen croaks. 

Jared smiles at him and wraps his arm around Jensen’s shoulders. He sighs and tries to relax his body as much as he can, letting his head rest on Jared’s chest, tucking his legs under himself. Jared rearranges the blanket over him and relaxes too, Jensen can feel it. When Jared’s hand starts running through his hair, fingers stroking his short bangs softly, Jensen feels the misery recede a little. He’s sleepy because of the heat and the Dramamine, and the black and white movie has a soothing effect on him.

::: :::

The film is boring. Jared has never been a fan of horror movies, let alone old ones. He’s hot enough to be sweating almost as much as Jensen, but he doesn’t move. His friend is drifting in and out of a light sleep as he is tucked against him. He’s not completely relaxed, but it’s good enough for Jared.

He feels himself drifting off as well, doesn’t fight it. 

He dreams of Benton Glass, of the TV interview he’d given a few years ago to this stupid journalist from behind bars, wearing the typical orange uniform. Jared had never listened to the entire thing, but he doubts what he’s hearing is anything but his own subconscious speaking. “I’ll get the both of you, Jared. You, and my little angel. You can’t have him, nobody can but me, boy.”

Jared knows he’s dreaming. That’s a technique he’s learned from Misha Collins: being a conscious dreamer. It allows him to escape his nightmares more easily, to turn them around sometimes. He silences Glass with all the will he can gather, but his lips are still moving, his eyes shining with sick pleasure, then a disgusting sound comes out of his mouth, like he’s…

Retching.

Jared blinks, immediately awake in the dark. The fire has died down. He’s half sitting, half lying on the couch, sweaty and sore from remaining in the uncomfortable position for too long.

The laptop is in sleep mode.

Then there is the noise again, and Jared knows it’s Jensen. He stands up and tries to stretch a little, looking at his watch. It’s almost one a.m.

The bathroom light is on, the door open as well. Sure enough, Jared finds Jensen kneeling on the floor, gripping the toilet bowl with both hands as he throws up violently, his entire body shaking with the force of it. Sweats drips down his face to the tip of his nose, his cheeks are red, the rest of his face a pasty white.

Jared grabs a towel from the set of drawers and wets it with cold water. He kneels next to Jensen and presses the towel to the back of his neck, making him tense and jerk.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Thanks,” Jensen hiccups before another bout of nausea wracks his body. He spits in the toilet bowl and flushes with a shaking hand.

“Feeling better?” Jared asks softly, wiping the young man’s face as delicately as he can. 

“Not really,” Jensen rasps, leaning back against him. 

The shivers are intensifying. In between, Jensen’s body is lax, not because he’s relaxed, but because he's visibly exhausted. Jared keeps on wiping his face, hair and neck, holding him steady. “Should have woken me up,” he says after a few minutes of silence.

“Didn’t really have the time,” Jensen murmurs. “I don’t feel good, Jared. I can’t do this… It hurts everywhere.”

“I’m sorry. What can I do?”

Jensen tilts his head up to look at him. All the color has drained from his face: his green, scared eyes seems even larger than usual. His lips are dry, cracking. Maybe this has gotten out of control, Jared thinks, even though he knows, deep down, that this is what withdrawal is. This is what it does to someone. It’s something hard to go through, but it’s doable.

Not life threatening. As long as the person isn’t dehydrated, this isn’t life-threatening, Jared repeats to himself. 

“… Jay, please.”

“What? Jensen, what, tell me.”

“I need some fucking morph, I need some now… You can… call Christian. I think I have a couple left back in my apartment.” 

Jensen’s voice isn’t angry, or demanding. It’s barely a frail wail coming through his chapped lips, like pushing the air out of his lungs is too much right now. Still, Jared feels like a jerk when he states firmly. “No. I know you’re getting to the worst part, Jen, but it will pass. It will, I swear. Remember what you told me. If you start using again, it means he wins. Glass wins.”

“Fuck you,” Jensen sobs. “Fuck you, Jared.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” Jensen cries, tears sliding down his cheeks. “You don’t understand, the pills, that’s what keeps him away. Without them he’s always there, always…”

“No, he isn’t. He’s in jail. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“But he does!” Jensen protests with a little more vigor. “He’s in my dreams, he’s hiding in dark corners, his voice, Jay, his voice, I don’t want to hear it anymore… I’m crazy, fuck, I’m losing it.”

“No, you aren’t. “ Jared tries to keep his own emotions under control, rocking Jensen back and forth, the movement as comforting for his friend as it is for him. This he knows, this he’s familiar with. The fear. “I’m scared too, Jensen. It isn’t always easy to keep all of this at bay, but you can do it. I swear it’s possible.”

“It hurts,” Jensen moans. “Bad. Don’t let me down, okay, please, Jared, I… I need you, don’t go…”

“I’m not going anywhere. See? I’m right here.”

Jensen nods and cries in silence for some time, letting Jared rock him to sleep, or to some kind of exhausted unconsciousness. After some time, Jared guesses he’d be more comfortable in bed. He can’t bring himself to leave Jensen alone on the cold bathroom tiles while he gets his room ready, so he stands up, dragging him with him. Jensen lets out some painful noises, but his eyes remains shut. He doesn’t fight when Jared slides one arm under his legs and lifts him in a bridal carry. Jared’s back muscles are straining a little, but he’s still surprised at how light Jensen feels in his arms.

“I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs when Jensen blinks at him.

“I know,” Jensen mumbles.

He doesn’t move until Jared deposits him gently on the bed. Then he sighs, a long, hiccupping one, and turns on his side, his hands shoved between his thighs. He’s still shivering, even if the worst of it seems to have subsided. Jared folds a part of the comforter he’s laying on over him.

“Don’ leave,” Jensen slurs.

“I’m not. Not going anywhere.” 

::: :::

He’s drifting in and out of sleep, or really a stupor. He’s not sure. He knows Jared is there, he knows it hurts, he knows he needs.

God, he needs the drugs so much.

Sometimes Glass is there, standing at the bottom of his bed, rubbing his hands with the slippery, transparent substance he would sometimes use before going down on him.

Lube, Jensen realizes for the first time. He barks out a laugh, but then his head explodes and he’s back in the bathroom, retching painfully, with Jared holding him, soothing him with soft words, refreshing him with a towel. Jared holds him at the surface of the madness, wets his lips with water, changes his sweat-drenched clothes. 

For a while, there is no time anymore. He’s strangely lucid, if anything he thinks he sees has any sense of reality. He's reached the worst part. He’s going through this, with Jared by his side, his body screaming for release, his mind crying for the dull sleep of his artificial cocoon.

I’m doing this, he thinks again, and it’s a wonder, it’s a wonder… He’s doing this. Getting rid of everything that's gone wrong in his life. He tells Jared so much, feels himself being dragged back to bed, and when he asks if the Bad Man is there, under the bed, or in the closet, Jared looks for him. He’s a bright presence in the dark maelstrom of the pain and hallucinations. 

He knows, this lucid side of him that's watching from a distance, he knows Glass isn’t there, can’t be.

Holds on to Jared. _Jared’s real. Jared’s going to take care of you._

“Stay, please,” his voice, broken and raw, utters, and Jared does. He lies down near to him and speaks. The words aren’t important. Just like it was at the beginning. Jensen and Jared, tucked together, Jared telling him about this old grumpy uncle receiving a visit from his niece, refusing to give her anything to cook a nice meal, and the niece, Daisy, boiling water and dropping a single button in it.

“The Disney version,” Jensen realizes, tossing and turning, lodging himself into Jared’s arms.

“The button soup,” Jared agrees. “The book cover was bright yellow. My mom used to read it to me. Daisy Duck was the niece, Scrooge McDuck was the uncle. He had all this delicious food stored in different parts of his house, and finally, Daisy was able to trick him into giving it to her to improve the button soup…”

And Jared speaks, still not moving, while Jensen hangs on to him, sweats and coughs and retches and fights with everything he has to just accept the withdrawal, to invite it, for he has to break in a thousand pieces if he ever wants to put himself together again. 

::: :::

Jensen wakes up in a jolt, curling in on himself as a stomach cramp flashes through him, pain exploding behind his eyes in white strikes.

“You okay, Jen?”

He blinks. He’s not sure of anything right now. Chris’s face is looking back at him, frowning in concern. 

“No,” Jensen utters. “Thirsty.”

Chris helps him sit up. The world shifts and everything seems too bright suddenly. Jensen holds Christian’s arm with an iron grip.

“Okay, okay, easy,” Chris whispers, lifting a glass to him. There is a straw in it. Jensen is glad. He’s not sure he could’ve managed all the effort needed to drink without it. 

He traps the straw between his teeth and sips three mouthfuls of water, wanting more, needing more, but Chris gets the glass away from him. “We’ll see if you can keep this down to begin with.”

Jensen nods and tries to ground himself somehow. He stinks, that much he knows. He’s undressed down to his boxers and socks, his skin is still sticky with sweat. The acrid taste of vomit is still there at the back of his throat. His head hurts, his legs too, although the cramps seems to have receded a little. His nose still feel stuffed, and he tries to sniff back, which is a mistake because he ends up sneezing painfully, his head snapping forward, and it feels like his eyes are going to come out of their sockets.

“Fuck,” he moans, pressing his hand to his eyes.

“Yep, looked like it hurt.”

“It did, motherfucker.”

“Shut up, sissy.”

“Jerk.”

“Ass hat.”

A smile threatens to lighten Christian’s face. It’s good, seeing him smile. He doesn’t allow it often.

Jensen falls back on the pillows, casting a look outside. He doesn’t have any idea of the time… or even the day, to tell the truth.

Then he remembers Jared. 

“Where’s Jared?” he asks, unable to hide the panic in his voice.

“He’s alright, don’t worry. I sent him to bed.”

“Wha’?”

“Okay, you have no idea, right?”

“Start with the day… and hour.”

“It’s… almost three o’clock in the afternoon, Saturday.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Chris nods, patting Jensen’s thighs. “You’ve been kind of in and out since last night. I called this morning, Jared told me he had everything under control, but I figured the poor guy could use some rest. I arrived around noon. Jared told me you were calmer and out for the count. I sent him to bed.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Jensen,” Chris repeats with insistence. “He didn’t even want to leave you, I had to use my scary voice. So, are you up for a shower?”

Jensen winces at the thought of holding himself up long enough. “Don’t think I can.”

“Alright, so, I’ll sit you on the toilet and give you a nice sponge bath, princess,” Christian grins.

Chris helps him up, holding him steady next to him. Jensen feels his stomach protest at the motion, but even though the water is making a worrisome bubbling sound, it stays where it is.

Jensen just concentrates on walking, one foot in front of the other. He doesn’t think about anything else, is too sick and tired to even try. He wonders if the worst is behind him, then lets the worries float away at the back of his mind.

“I need a cigarette,” he croaks.

“And I need to drag your sorry ass to the bathroom, so it’ll have to wait,” Christian replies.

::: :::

Jared finds some coffee in the pantry, nothing close to the strong espresso he needs -instant, as a matter of fact- but he figures it will do the job. He stretches and sniffs at himself, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He needs a shower badly. He’d stayed in bed with Jensen for most of the night and the following morning, ready to help him to the bathroom whenever he needed, to comfort him when sudden bouts of panic would take hold of him, or just stay there, holding him close, hoping his presence could sooth the pain, both physical and psychological.

Just like so many years ago. Maybe it’s a sign, maybe nothing has really changed; like if Jensen could go through his withdrawal, it would be just like coming out of the basement afresh. Only now he'd have a chance to heal, and this time, Jared wouldn’t leave his side. Ever. 

Maybe this, right there, is Jensen’s second chance at life. And god, Jared wants to be there to witness it all.

He’s surprisingly peaceful as he goes to sit outside. Walking by the bathroom, he can hear Christian’s quiet voice and Jensen’s even quieter answers. Good. 

It’s a rainy day, although the weather is still warm. Jared sits on the stairs and opens his cell phone, dialing Misha Collins’ private number. His therapist answers on the second ring, grumbling his name and excusing himself while he swallows whatever he’d been eating. Then he asks how Jared is doing.

“It’s hard, but I’m okay. I called because I needed to ask you something.”

“Jared?” Misha’s tone is already suspicious. Jared had always thought of their relationship more like friendship than a doctor/patient one. Misha had always insisted that Jared call him by his first name, and took him fishing twice, saying it was part of the therapy. When Jared had asked if he did this with a lot of his patients, Misha had shaken his head, looking ridiculous with his fishing hat on. “I’ve never done this before. Now, please be silent. You’ll scare the fishes.” 

So Jared doesn’t feel nervous about what he wants to ask. Not nervous as he should be.

“I want you to help Jensen.”

“Help Jensen.” Misha seems to ponder. His tone is perfectly neutral. “What do you mean?”

“After the withdrawal, Mish. I want him to come back home with me and I want you to see him. I’ll pay for-“

“Stop. Right now.”

“Misha, please hear me out-“

“Jared. I understand your friend is in great distress right now, and you must be very emotional, but you have to think about what you’re actually saying to me. We go back to the whole imaginary responsibility you think you have toward Jensen.”

“No, Misha. I’m a grown man and I know what I’m doing. And don’t laugh your ass off, because of the whole asexuality thing, but I’m in love with him.”

There is a long, long silence at the other end of the line. Enough for Jared to worry he might have pushed too far.

“Of course you are,” Misha says slowly, very softly.

“Is this sarcasm?”

“No.” Misha sighs. “It’s love, of course it is. I’m not going to tell you what to feel, Jared. The relationship you’ve had with Jensen through the years is unique because of the circumstances surrounding your first meeting. I’m not saying it’s… healthy, but it’s not my place to judge either.”

“I need you to help him,” Jared pleads. “He needs help, he needs me… And I need to be close to him.”

“What about Jensen?”

“I didn’t ask him yet. He’s still in withdrawal, and he has enough problems to deal with as it is right now. But he’s going to accept this, I know.”

“So, what, you’re planning to take him home with you? When?”

“Well, the worst of the withdrawal should be over by tomorrow. I thought I could drive back with him on Monday.”

“Hum.”

“What does that mean?”

“I… Shit, Jared, you put me in a difficult position. I have ethics, personal and professional. Nothing about this is regular. You are my patient, and what you’re asking me…”

Jared waits. He’s used to Misha Collins’ sudden bouts of silence. The man can spend two or three minutes staring into nothingness after Jared had asked a question. 

“Okay, I’m coming over,” is what Misha finally says.

“What?”

“You heard me. I’ll be there tomorrow, probably around noon. Can you give me the exact coordinates of the place you guys are staying at?”

“Whoa. Misha, it’s-“

“Jared. I can’t accept what you’re asking of me without meeting with Jensen and assessing his situation–hell, both of your situations. You can’t just steal him away from his current life because you think I might be able to help. It would be unprofessional for me act in any other way.”

“But-“

“Plus, Alaina would kill me if I didn’t give this a try.”

Jared is still too overwhelmed to know what to say, or how to react properly. He gapes at the phone, then stutters a barely audible “okay.”

“I’m serious, Jared. I’m coming.” Misha says again, like he wants to anchor Jared in reality.

“Yeah, I heard you.”

::: :::

He’s back on the couch, clean and dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He’s smoking a cigarette, sipping at a bottle of Gatorade and trying to calm the turmoil in his mind while Christian busies himself doing some cleaning and Jared takes a shower. The pain in his muscles comes and goes, but as far as those symptoms are concerned, the worst is behind him. His stomach is still churning, cramping, trying to digest the pepto Chris has given him, plus the Dramamine. His headache is the worst, just like last time, and he feels completely empty, like he’s too light and drained to do anything more than lie there, trying not to think of the bliss he would feel from taking some Oxy, cocaine, alcohol –hell, even pot, he’s not picky.

It’s like a silent scream in his head, the sensation of coming back to reality, while his body works to get rid of the habit. It’s an almost unbearable feeling of rawness and despair. He just wants to keep the panic at bay: right now, that's all he can do, and it’s hard not to succumb, not to yell or burst into tears because hell, what’s the point of all this? What’s the fucking point?

“Can you make another fire?” he asks Christian. 

He’s cold to the bones, despite the blanket wrapped around him.

“You sure? It won’t get too hot in here?” Chris asks, already walking toward the fireplace.

“I’m cold,” Jensen murmurs.

“Okay, I’m on it.”

Jensen puts the Gatorade back on the coffee table and drops his still-smoking cigarette in the ashtray. He slides his arms inside the blanket, lays his head back on the couch armrest and closes his eyes.

He’s drifting off again, the sound of the logs crackling and the smell of the first drafts of smoke the only thing keeping him grounded.

Maybe not so much. He comes back from the light sleep state he’s slipped into, hearing Jared and Christian speaking in low voices. He opens his eyes to slits, sees them both sitting at the kitchen table, eating. 

“You okay there, Jen?” Christian asks, looking back at him.

Jensen groans. No, he’s not okay, but what is the point to actually stating it. Too much effort.

The shivers are back. His teeth are chattering. Fuck, he’s just so tired of it all.

“You think you could eat something?” Christian goes on.

The bare thought of trying to swallow anything but water and Gatorade makes him feel sick. He shakes his head, turning his attention to the flames dancing in the fireplace. The heat comes to him in waves. It’s the only thing that feels good right now.

He must have drifted off again because the next time he opens his eyes, Christian is sitting on the couch, shaking his shoulder lightly.

“You should drink a little more,” he says, giving him the bottle of Gatorade.

Jensen doesn’t protest. He sips a tiny mouthful. The sweet taste doesn’t sit well. He’ll ask for some water instead. As soon as he can gather the energy to do so.

“I think I’ll go back home for the night,” Christian says. “If it’s okay with you.”

Jensen nods, looks at Jared who’s still sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a coffee. “You’re not tired of my bullshit yet?” He tries to joke, but it comes out needy, shaking with nervousness.

“I’m not,” Jared answers. He smiles, a real one.

::: :::

It’s night again, and Jensen feels like time is slipping through his fingers, as if he's trying to hold the remains of a broken hourglass. The fire is still burning. Jared is sitting at the other end of the couch, looking like he’s lost in his thoughts. Jensen clears his throat and stretches a hand to grab a glass of water waiting for him on the coffee table. He doesn’t remember asking for it. Doesn’t care that he doesn’t remember.

The water is pure bliss sliding down his scratchy, swollen throat. “I have trouble,” he croaks, “staying awake.”

“It’s good, you need the rest.” 

“What time ‘sit?”

“Almost nine. You okay? Do you need the bathroom?”

“I… yeah. Give me five minutes, though.”

“You look a little better.”

“I don’t feel a little better,” Jensen replies, aware that he sounds like a child.

“Jensen.” Jared bites his bottom lips and gets closer, sitting at the edge of the couch so that he can bend over him and run a hand through his damp hair.

“Yeah?”

“I called my therapist this afternoon.”

Jensen looks at him fondly. Jared and his psychologist. He always found it kind of funny the way his friend had held onto his therapy sessions. “Okay, why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to come back with me to Rhode Island. I want Misha to be your therapist, help you with the aftermath of the withdrawal.”

“What?”

“I… have this huge condo, there is a guest room and and… Christian says you can take all the time you need, that he’ll always have a job for you if you want to go back to Chicago and-“

“You talked about this with Christian?” Jensen asks in disbelief.

His stomach cramps suddenly, painfully. He tries to get up on his own but ends up swaying on his feet, sure he’s going to face plant right there. Jared is up too, holding him, his arms strong and steady. “Gonna be sick,” Jensen croaks.

They barely make it to the bathroom in time. Feeling the first acid reflux rising in his throat, Jensen pushes Jared away and collapses in front of the toilet. There is nothing to throw up except water and stomach fluids. It burns all the way up to his throat and his sinuses. He moans, tears escape his eyes, and Jared is all over him with his wet towel and apologies about how he didn’t want to shock him and what an idiot he is.

“Shut up,” Jensen pants, closing the toilet lid and resting his head on it. “Water to rinse my mouth would be great.”

When he’s done, he settles himself carefully, his back against the bathroom wall. Jared is crouched in front of him, biting his lips nervously.

“I didn’t puke because of what you told me,” Jensen murmurs, gathering whatever forces he can mustered. “Withdrawal, remember? Don’t… I’m not mad at you or anything.”

“Good.” Jared lets out a breath of relief and sits in front of him, his legs crossed, like some giant kid.

“Jared you can’t just… Put all of your life on hold because of me. And… and I don’t have any money, I can’t-“

“I have money. I have everything you’d need.”

“Stop,” Jensen snaps with irritation. “You’re not hearing me out. You think that by tomorrow I’ll be cured from my addiction and in perfect mental health? This is barely the beginning, Jared. I know how tough it is when I’m off the drugs. I can’t stand it. I don’t have the faintest idea how I’m going to manage it this time.”

“I know that. Chris told me you were going to find a shrink, that you knew you’d need help afterward. Misha is good. And he knows about you because, well… I’m his patient.”

“Oh, well, everything is perfect then,” Jensen says in a derisive tone. “It’s not about this. It’s about you, giving up whatever you have right now to watch over me and-“

“You’re wrong,” Jared cuts him out, and his eyes are shining with determination, and maybe a bit of anger. “I’m doing this because I don’t want to be away from you anymore. I’ve told you: there isn’t a single day I haven't thought about you since you left. I need you too, Jensen. I know you can’t see that right now, but I do, I always have. This, what I’m doing, it’s selfish, alright? It’s me, asking for you to come because I want you to. I _need_ you to.” 

“Don’t do this, please,” Jensen murmurs, and tears are welling up in his eyes once again. He curses, wipes them away, but they keep coming. “Don’t… because you know I’ll say yes, fuck, you know I’m that messed up. I… Jared…”

Jared takes Jensen’s face between his hands, looking straight into his eyes –damn it, into his soul. It’s too much to bear, but Jensen can’t close his eyes. Not when Jared is doing this.

“I meant it, when I said I loved you. And I know, this isn’t the kind of love you’re looking for… Shit, I don’t have any idea of what you’re looking for, but I do love you, Jensen, as much as I’m capable of loving someone. You have to let me help because seeing you like this, it breaks my heart, always has. We never got the chance to get together more than a few days at a time, and I always wanted more.”

“I’mma screw you up, Jay,” Jensen hiccups, because apparently he’s in full-on crying mode now. 

“I _am_ screwed up. In a different way, that’s all.” 

“I don’t care about your asexuality, or sex in general. Sex is bad for me. What’s scares me, though…”

Jensen tries to take a deep breath. It’s not an easy thing to say, or even think. “What if I don’t get better… ever?”

“You’re already better. I’m not talking about the last few days, I’m talking about years. When you’d come to visit me, I would see how you were struggling. I mean, I was a child, and you were too, but still I’ve always known you were unhappy. And over the last two days, I’ve learned more about you than during all these years because we’re both adults now. There are things… Things we couldn’t understand about ourselves before.”

Jensen doesn’t want to fight anymore, not this particular need. Of course, it’s probably as messed up as the rest, as unhealthy, but the drugs, he can bear the thought of living without them. He cannot live without them and Jared, though, and as screwed up as it might seems, the need of Jared’s presence next to him, he doesn’t want to fight.


	10. Chapter 10

The night isn’t as bad as the one before, but Jared can barely sleep a couple of hours, max. Jensen’s stomach seems to have settled down enough, even though he can’t swallow anything but water and Dramamine.

Now, though, he's agitated. He refuses to go to sleep if Jared doesn’t lie down with him, and even though he seems to fall asleep quite easily, his sleep isn’t deep or peaceful. It’s restless. He jolts awake every hour or so, and his nightmares make him scream and plead and cry. He’s drifting in and out of consciousness, and the only way to calm him down is to hold him tight and speak to him constantly. 

When morning comes, they’re both drenched in sweat, tangled in the sheets. Jensen asks for a shower. He’s unsteady and weak, needs Jared to undress him and to stay nearby, but it seems to do him some good. Afterward, he takes some more Dramamine and drinks half a bottle of Gatorade. Jared settles him on the couch, and this time he sleeps soundly, not even twitching or moaning, out for the count. Jared sits in the rocking chair next to him and nods off too. They both wake up around ten. 

Jensen seems a little better this time, despite the dark circles around his eyes and the waxy aspect of his skin. The tremors aren’t as intense, the nasal congestion has almost completely disappeared, and he isn't sweating as much. His voice is hoarse from the screaming and crying during the night, but calm. He asks for Jared to help him to the bathroom, then walks back to the couch by himself, lighting up a cigarette. 

His eyes seem hollow and haunted. This is Jensen without the drugs, all of him, struggling to come out of it, to face reality as it is. In a way, it’s even harder to witness this than when he’s high.

Jared cuts an apple into thin slices and takes it to him. Jensen doesn’t grimace. He takes the plate and starts munching on a slice.

“You feel a little better, right?” 

“Yeah, sort of,” Jensen murmurs, staring into nothingness. “Your psychologist, Collins, he’s going to be here soon?”

“Yes, why?”

“Kind of sick of being here. And then what, you’re going to drive us back all the way to Providence?”

“That’s the plan. We’ll go to your place first, I’ll help you pack.”

Jensen shakes his head. “Don’t want to go back there. I should call Christian, tell him to bring me my stuff. It’s not like I own much anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

Jensen smiles sadly. “This place is where I really lost my shit –not Christian’s fault, though. He did everything he could. The man I’ve been while I was there -I don’t want to be him anymore.”

Jensen calls Christian himself. His friend seems to understand, judging from what Jared hears. The conversation is short. Still, when Jensen hangs up, he looks exhausted. “He says he’ll come by later this afternoon, wants to give us some space while your shrink is here.”

Jared lets Jensen rest while he cleans up a little. When he goes outside to welcome Misha Collins, he's surprised to see how warm and bright it is. Spending two days locked inside with someone in withdrawal kind of gives you the impression the whole world is grey and cold.

“Nice family place,” Collins says, looking around.

He's wearing some ugly long shorts with a square pattern and a t-shirt that proclaims he’s the king of ping pong. The ensemble is completed by a light travel bag with a palm tree pattern. It’s like he’s a family man that left the camping site to come rescue one of his patients. 

“Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah.” Misha nods. “Where’s your friend?”

“Inside. Resting. I think the worst of the withdrawal is over.”

“Well, it would fit, but withdrawal is not over –far from it. Just the most acute symptoms. Shall we?” Misha asks, waiting in front of Jared who’s standing in front of the door.

“Hum. Yeah. I thought you would have more questions for me.”

“No.” Collins waits patiently.

“I’ve talked with Jensen. He agreed to come live with me, and to have you as a shrink.”

“Good, but I need to speak to _him_ about all this, not you, Jared.”

Jared frowns, but opens the door for the psychologist. When Misha is in one of those moods, focused and absorbed, trying to talk him out of it is useless. 

Misha goes straight for the couch. Jensen is lying there, wrapped tightly in his blanket. He’s not asleep, though, because as soon as Misha comes close, he sits up. Jared makes the introductions while Misha sits in front of Jensen, on the coffee table.

“Hi, Mr. Ackles.”

“Jensen,” the younger man rasps, trying somewhat to compose himself by running an unsteady hand in his drab hair.

“Well, okay, I’m Misha, then. That’s what Jared calls me anyway. Do you agree for me to be your psychiatrist?”

“Huh… Yeah I huh… I agree.”

“Now, let’s start with a quick physical examination. You’ve been clean since Friday morning, right?”

“Yes. Only took some Dramamine and Pepto.”

Misha smiles softly and opens his bag, taking out a blood pressure cuff, a stethoscope and some other instruments Jared is used to seeing in any doctor's office.

“Wait… Are you a shrink or a doctor?” Jensen asks.

“Well, both, actually. I am a psychiatrist, which means I have a medical license, but I am also a psychologist and practicing therapist. One stop shopping. Tell me, would you mind taking off your t-shirt?”

“No.” Jensen blushes and casts a silent look at Jared for help. He steps in, eases Jensen’s shirt off of his arms and neck. His friend is breathing quickly; his ribs are visible under his too-white skin. Maybe it’s because of Misha’s presence, or the fact that he’s retreated to a spectator role instead of active helper, but seeing his therapist taking Jensen’s blood pressure and temperature, looking into his mouth, ears and nose, listening to his breathing with the stethoscope, makes Jared’s heart ache. He can see how uneasy and nervous Jensen is, how unhealthy he looks. Misha speaks to him with a soft voice, almost a murmur, a tone he’s never used with Jared, who feels his respect for the man growing yet a little more.

“Okay, we’re done,” Collins says, and Jensen nods, simply drawing the blanket over his chest.

“You can smoke if you want to,” Misha adds.

“Yeah, I must smell like tobacco, and sweat,” Jensen says, going for an anxious smile.

“Mostly, yeah. So… When was the last time you saw a doctor –a medical doctor, I mean.”  
“There was this resident at the community clinic who got me tested for Hep and HIV six months ago. Before that, I think I must have been twelve, caught the flu. S’about it.”

Jared sits on the couch next to Jensen, trying to hide his shock, hearing about HIV and Hepatitis. Of course, if Jensen’s been sleeping around, not being careful, or too drunk or high to really care, he'd be at risk. Jared must live so hidden from the real world in his bubble of control and comfort that he's never even had to think about it. And Jensen hasn’t even answered yet.

“I guess the results of the tests were negative, or you would have told me,” Misha Collins says, casting a quick look at Jared.

“Yeah, they were. I‘ve been lucky, is all.”

“Well, okay, Jensen. From what I can tell, you’re probably suffering from a light anemia, and must been missing some vitamins and stuff –nothing that can’t be fixed, alright? You must feel ready to come out of your skin, third day of opiates withdrawal will do that to you. But you’re not dehydrated, which was my principal concern so, all and all, you’re coping well.”

“Think so?” Jensen asks, rising a disbelieving eyebrow. 

“Yes, I think so. Now, Jensen, as I understand, Jared and you have been talking about some stuff.”

“Stuff,” Jared interrupts with irritation. “Like Jensen coming back to Providence with me, is that what you mean?”

“Yes, that’s what I meant, Jared,” Misha says, way too calmly. “And now I need to speak with my patient. In private. Is that alright with you, Jensen? Just you and me for a minute?”

Jensen shrugs, looking at Jared in search of his approval. Jared nods. As much as he wants to remain close and protect him from any arm that could come to him, he knows Misha well enough not to try to interfere.

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” Jensen finally murmurs.

“I’m going to wait on the porch, if that’s alright,” Jared says, wanting Jensen to know he’s going to stay close.

“Good,” Misha nods to him, silently thanking him for his co-operation.

Jared grabs a can of soda, his laptop, and leaves the house. For a moment, he ponders with the idea of writing an email to Felicia, explaining to her what he’s about to do, but he feels tired already, thinking of all he’d have to explain and how it would feel like he’s justifying himself. So he drinks his soda and watches the lake. Some people are kayaking; a couple of kids are swimming under the supervision of their parents. Everything seems so simple and good out there, like life is nothing but a long holiday waiting to be enjoyed. How could it seem so different, while in the closed space of the cabin there is so much misery and sadness, enough for a lifetime, enough for all these families enjoying the lake to share so that Jensen wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.

Jared waits. The chair he’s sitting on is resting back against the window. He can actually hear the combined murmurs of his therapist and Jensen; not make out the words, he wouldn’t spy, but it's still reassuring.

Misha talks with Jensen for a long time. At some point, Jensen starts crying. It’s tough for Jared, hearing more of the raw, hiccupping sobs he’s already witnessed over the course of the last days. Jensen must be exhausted, drained. 

He cries for a long time too, but at some point, it seems to finally recede. It’s been more than an hour since Jared has left them alone, and when Misha opens the door, he’s up in a second, impatient to get to Jensen.

“He’s okay,” Misha says. “He’s just very tired.”

Jensen is still on his couch, his eyes so swollen they’re merely slits, his cheeks red and still wet. He’s smoking, his chest still ravaged by the last hiccupping breaths of his crying fit. He tries to smiles at Jared but fails miserably, and he ends up catching his lower lip between his teeth to keep it from trembling.

“I think he should rest for a few hours. I’ve given him a light anxiolytic. It will allow him to relax a little,” Misha tells him.

“Okay, I’ll help him to bed. Are you alright with this, Jen?”

“More than,” Jensen croaks. 

Jared helps him up, sliding an arm around his slim waist. Jensen doesn’t start walking yet. He turns toward Misha Collins and utters a “thank you” that's almost inaudible.

This time, Jared doesn’t take Jensen back to his room: despite the cleaning he’s been doing, it still smells like sickness and sweat. Jensen needs a fresh bed. He settles him in his own, the one he hasn't even used during the past two days. The sheets are clean and fresh to the touch. Jensen sighs, letting his head drop on the pillow. “Feels good,” he trails off, smiling at Jared.

“Want me to stay with you?”

“No. Wanna sleep. Whatever your shrink gave me, it’s… it’s good,” Jensen whispers, raising an uncertain hand to brush Jared’s hair away from his face. “Thank you, for doing that for me.”

Jared brushes it off, shrugging. “Now, Misha hasn't been too hard on you?”

“No. But you should go back to him. I told him I wanted him to explain to you what our private conversation was about.”

“You sure?”

“Too tired to do it myself.”

Jensen’s eyes are already closing. With a sigh, Jared raises the comforter over him and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Misha is waiting for him, sitting at the kitchen table. Jared offers him a coffee, which he accepts. While he boils the water, Misha is silent, scribbling some notes down. He does smile at Jared, though, when he sits in front of him –a sincere, wide smile.

“No need to be nervous.”

“Seriously? Because I’m pretty sure you didn’t plan on flying to Chicago this weekend,” Jared sighs, brushing his hair away from his face.

“I’m not angry at you, Jared. I’m a big boy, I can make my own decisions. Jensen told you he wanted me to tell you what our conversation was about?”

“Yes,” Jared clears his throat. “But I’m not sure…”

“He wants you to know,” Misha interjects. “I believe it’s important for him.”

“Okay, alright.”

“First thing I want to say is that I accepted helping him mostly because he’s ready, psychologically. I mean, quitting cold turkey like he did is one thing, but it’s no use if the person doesn’t really wish to quit and can’t see it as a long-term goal. The fact that Jensen really wants to put all of this behind him? That's good. That’s where it’s supposed to start.”

“Good.”

“By his own admission he clearly needs professional help. He’s scared of being clean because he’s always used the drugs as a way of keeping his memories and feelings at bay, regarding the kidnapping and physical abuse. Plus people who’ve used opiates for quite some time will most probably go through a long period of anxiety and depression after they quit.”

“Yes, that’s why he needs you,” Jared says eagerly.

Misha smiles reassuringly. “And that’s why I’m going to help him. Now, it appears that after you and he were saved from Glass, he lacked the psychological support you were provided.”

“Yes, I told you. His mother stopped him from seeing Alaina soon after,” Jared reminds him, his whole body tensing with anger at the bare mention of Donna Ackles. 

“Not only that, but he was forbidden to talk about it. He had to shove all of his fears and painful memories inside. Asking that of a kid so young can have serious psychological consequences.”

Jared crosses his arms and tries to remain calm. When he’d been younger, his feelings toward Jensen’s mother were confused, at best. He was a boy who loved his mommy, and received so much love in return, that it was hard to believe that a mother could cause harm to her own child voluntarily. Misha knows all this. There is not much Jared hadn’t talked about since he began to meet with him, six years ago.

“Why?” he asks. “Why would a mother do this to her son?”

“Well, this, I’ll need to talk about with Jensen to have a better understanding, but what I can say is that people react differently when something like this happens to their loved one. I believe Jensen’s mother thought she was doing the right thing, that she was protecting him-“

“That’s bullshit.”

“Well, you’re not a mother whose child has been hurt. You don’t know how you would react. I’m not saying what she did was right. I’m saying she probably had no idea that what she was doing could hurt her child.”

“I’ll need more than your theories to forgive her,” Jared murmurs, looking down at his hands, jaw clenched.

“Yes, but this isn’t about you, Jared. It’s about Jensen, and the issues he has with his mother will be addressed. Another thing that bothers him is his… promiscuity. He told you a little about this, right? Sleeping around is another way for him to seek some relief from the physical pain. It isn’t any different from self-harm, and that’s what worries him the most.”

Jared remembers that time when he had seen cuts healing on his friend’s arm, and doubting that it had been caused by an accident at school, like Jensen had told him. Over the course of the last two days, he’s had the occasion to look at his friend’s body, and he’d been searching for any clue that he’d still been doing it, but except for some tiny white scars he’d noticed inside of his arms, he had been relieved not to see any recent marks.

“I think he did it, when he was young,” he trails off, shivering at the thought. 

“Well, not only when he was young. It’s been a coping mechanism for him through the years. He still did it as a teenager, and when he tried to quit drugs last year, it came back. He’s scared he won’t be able to help himself. Self-harm can be caused by a variety of reasons, and for people doing it, it can be a way to punish themselves, or deal with a pain they can’t make better by replacing it by another kind of pain. A pain they believe they can control. I’m just theorizing right now, because I’ll need to discuss this with him in depth.”

“If he’s scared it will come back, it means he doesn’t want it to come to that point -it means he really wants to get better, right?”

“I believe so. This, and the fact that he’s never really had suicidal thoughts, despite his self-destructive behavior, tells me Jensen really has a chance here. During all those years when he'd been a drug user, when he had a very active sexual life, there are still some lines he’s never crossed. He always used protection –well, as much as he can remember, and he never switched from pills to injections, while doing drugs. This means, he still kept a sense of self-preservation.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean…”

Misha takes a sip at his coffee, makes a face, and pushes the mug away. “He wants to live, Jared. He just doesn’t know how to do it without all the pain. That’s why, after we discussed it, we decided it would be good for him to be hospitalized for a short term period… maybe two weeks or so.”

“He agreed?”

Misha smiles. “Well, he wasn’t very enthusiastic at the idea of being admitted in a rehabilitation center, so we made a compromise. I know this convalescent home near Rhode Island Hospital. People who’ve had serious illnesses or surgery can go there for up to a month after getting released from the hospital. It’s like a transition between hospital care and home. The medical staff is lower profile but very competent, every patient has his own room, and Jensen won’t be amongst psychologically distressed people –which wouldn’t necessarily be bad for him, you know, but it’s a very different atmosphere than a rehabilitation center, and I think it would be better than nothing.”

“I can visit?”

“Yes, you can visit, as long as you want. There are no restricted hours. This place isn’t cheap, though. It’s like a hotel, with nurses, and doctors who make visits.”

“Money is not a problem.”

“I know it isn’t, that’s why I suggested it.”

Jared sighs. Everything Misha told him seems to be good news, all things considered. The psychiatrist doesn’t seem to be unhappy with him, even though Jared had had the impression he had dragged him into his mess, forced his hand. The fact that Jensen clearly wants to be helped and is ready to follow him to Providence is a relief, even though he had already said so much to Jared. He believes Misha would have noticed if it wasn’t really what he’d wanted, or needed.

“Thank you, so much -thanks for helping him, thanks for doing this,” he tells his friend.

“I'm helping because I believe he wants me to help,” Misha answers. “But yeah, there’s this part where I do this for you as well, because you’re still my patient, Jared, and I truly believe you need this.”

The man rummages through his bag and gets out a prescription bottle with two small white pills inside. He plays with for a moment, switching it from hand to hand and smiling to himself. “You were right, Jared,” he murmurs. “He’s heart-breaking, this poor kid… Never had the slightest chance to live a normal life. I’m telling you this in a very unprofessional way. I’m really glad you called me.”

Jared blushes and nods. He doesn’t know what to say, except he kind of wants to hug his therapist in his arms but it probably would be awkward as hell.

“I’m flying back to Providence tonight. I asked Jensen if he wanted to accompany me, but he prefers to ride with you. You drove all the way here, right?”

“Yeah.”  
“Okay, so I suggest you wait until tomorrow morning to leave if that’s possible. He needs the rest. Those pills are for anxiety, they’re the same as the one I gave him. It's not for long term use, because Jensen could become addicted to them quickly, and the best choice for him, I think, is to start a low-dose anti-depressant, but I’ll work on that later. For tonight, though, and tomorrow morning, he should take them. It will help. I’ll arrange everything at Hudson Convalescence Center for Jensen to have his room ready when you guys will get back. I’ll find him a general practitioner too, to run some blood tests and see if he has any other health issues. Sounds like a plan, right?”

“Sounds like an awesome plan,” Jared breathes out, feeling like a weight has been taken off his shoulders. 

“That’s because I’m an awesome guy.”

::: :::

Christian comes back for dinner. He brought steaks, only for Jared and him, knowing there is no way Jensen will be able to eat one. He’s quiet. Jensen wonders if he feels betrayed, in some ways, because he’s leaving, leaving his friend who’s always been there for him, not matter what shit he had to put up with over the course of the last five years. Christian has taught him the only job he knows, Christian never asked why Jensen was so messed up until Jensen decided to tell him. Five years ago, he’d saved Jensen's life, taking him in.

Jensen contemplates those ideas from the couch that has become his home for the last three days. He’s drinking one of those instant soup-in-a-cup, slowly but surely. He knows he’ll be able to keep it down.

The conversation he’s he had with Misha Collins has drained him. It was painful on many levels, but the pain had been necessary, like treating an infected wound, and the tiredness he now feels is a good one, like he’s scrubbed his head clean. He knows the anxiety pill helps him keep calm. He knows this is only the beginning and there are many bad, difficult days ahead of him, but he can’t bring himself to care right now.

Moving away from Chicago doesn’t scare him; following Jared, letting Jared take care of him doesn’t scare him either. Collins had been very clear. This was something Jared wanted, not an impersonal charity act. “He says he loves you and I believe him, Jensen. I don’t know what kind of love this is or where it will lead you guys, but trust me, you’re everything but a burden to Jared.”

No, the only thing twisting Jensen’s guts is leaving Christian behind. 

He’s still contemplating this idea when Christian comes back inside. He and Jared had been hovering over the grill for the last hour.

“So, I think I can trust Jared with the steaks,” Christian tells him, rubbing his hands together.

He looks at the table. There is bread and a salad. Christian is a good cook, although he would probably punch anyone in the face who’d risk saying that out loud, hurting his man-pride.

“We just have to wait for the meat,” Christian adds, joining Jensen on the couch. “Hey, how are you doin’?”

“I’m… fine, I guess,” Jensen answers, unable to look him in the eyes.

“Yeah, right, and I’m Martha Stewart. Seriously, Jen, tell me. Do you feel the need? Is it bad?”

Jensen shakes his head. “It’s there, but it’s not bad, and I’m okay, Chris, s’just… Fuck, I don’t know what to say.”

“Say what?”

“I’m… sorry?” 

Christian looks at him quizzically. “Why?”

“After what you did for me, I’m leaving you behind and it’s-”

“Hey, whoa. No. Don’t go there,” Christian cuts him off with an imperative voice. “Listen, Jensen, don’t ever think that what you’ve decided to do could hurt me. We’re friends, and a true friend knows better than to put his own, selfish desires in front of true needs. I want you to go with Jared because I think that’s what you need. I’ll miss my best tattoo artist, sure, and maybe kicking your ass once in a while, but I know the decision you made doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“Still…” Jensen trails off, ridiculously close to tears all over again.

“No, man, don’t go all emotional on me, it’s not like we won’t see each other again, alright? Believe it or not, I can drive up to freaking Rhode Island whenever I want. I told you, there will always be a job for you at my place, but it’s not what’s important.”

“Shit,” Jensen smiles through his tears. “How can you ask me not to be emotional when you’re saying all those things?”

“Be a man, you sissy,” Chris jokes, turning his head away because his chin is starting to do this strange wobbly thing.

“Jackass.”

“That’s lame,” Chris replies, still carefully looking in the opposite direction.

Jared pushes the door open at this moment, holding a plate with two steaming steaks. His face is beet red, he reeks of smoke and smiles proudly, all dimples out.

“Steaks are ready,” he announces.

And Jensen smiles back. Because he loves the guy, loves him so freaking much it hurts. Jared is still there, seventeen years after, holding his hand, just like in Glass’ prison; Jensen’s private sun, bright and warm. 

Maybe something good can come out of all this.


	11. Chapter 11

Nobody said it would be easy.

On a purely intellectual level, Jensen knows this. It’s different, though, to experience it day to day; to feel so awake, a sum of broken parts trying clumsily to unite, to become something.

The first week is the worst. 

The convalescent center is a very nice place, and he has a room all to himself on the second floor, with a large window through which he can look at the small park and the wooded area farther away. He’s left alone. A nurse comes two or three times a day to see how he’s doing, to take his vital signs, bring fresh towels and change the sheets. He’d asked to have his meals brought to his room, not feeling ready to socialize. He has a TV and internet access. There is a laundry service. He feels like he’s being treated in a way he doesn’t deserve, like he’s someone special, someone worth it.

Misha Collins has found him a general practitioner, a young, dark- haired man whose name keeps eluding him. He talks about anemia and malnourishment. Jensen is too thin, his blood work shows he's missing some stuff. All of it is very boring. Jensen takes the vitamins and iron pills prescribed, and when he’s not hungry enough to finish his meals, he makes a point of drinking the protein shake coming with it. 

Collins visits every day. They talk. At first, it’s never more than half an hour, although it leaves Jensen exhausted as if it’s been days; days of exposing himself, exploring dark corners of his mind that he’d prefer to ignore. He’s been prescribed an anti-depressant. Hadn’t liked the idea, at first, because it’s drugs, and he doesn’t quite understand the difference between the ones he used to take and this. Both are supposed to ease the pain away. _Not the same thing,_ Misha Collins insists. _Trust me, Jensen, this is something you need. We can reassess in six months. This will help._

Jared comes everyday too. He spends hours with Jensen. When Jensen asks about his work, Jared tells him not to worry -he’s the owner of the company, after all. 

Jared stays late into the night. He lies down with Jensen and holds him. Most of the time, Jensen falls asleep before he leaves. 

Jared seems content, so Jensen stops protesting that he can just go on with his life, that Jensen is well taken care of. It’s not true anyway. Jensen needs him.

He doesn’t sleep well, is plagued by nightmares. Sometimes, even when he’s awake, he can’t shake the feeling that some nasty presence is there with him, following his every move like a shadow. Glass. His squinty, dark eyes, his huge hands, his foul breath. And all Jensen wants to do is to curl in on himself and feel some pain to anchor him in reality. Once, he digs his nails in the meat of his palms enough to leaves some marks. He tells Collins about it. He’s scared of what he could do to himself. Before he’d started to do drugs, when he’d been thirteen or fourteen, the self-harm had become serious and uncontrollable. He’d take a sharp razor blade and dig into the skin of his arms, his thighs, until blood was flowing enough to make him feel sick, ready to pass out.

Collins understands this. He says it’s a defense mechanism he'd developed at an early age, that it won't just go away all of sudden. Jensen has to acknowledge it and find an alternative, healthier way to cope. One night, Jensen wakes up terrified, enough to feel it: the need, the slow, burning emotional numbing of morphine or codeine –anything, really. He tries not to hurt himself but he’s panicking, and he finds himself sitting in the small closet of his room, door closed, searching for some peace, security while he's wrapped in the narrow darkness. He doubts this is a healthier way to deal, and tells Misha Collins that much. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” Collins answers. He seems to have very low expectations with Jensen, or maybe that’s the way psychotherapy works? He has no idea. 

The second week is a little better. Jared had told him that so far, only Felicia knows he’s in Providence, and that she’d been dying to see him. Jensen agrees to a visit. She comes bearing gifts, chocolate and cigarettes and a couple of t-shirts with strange mottoes on them. Jared must have told her how little Jensen has. He feels good enough to take a walk in the park with both of them. Felicia babbles constantly about Jared and work and life in general. Jared takes Jensen’s hand and doesn’t let go. For the first time in years, Jensen feels… normal.

He’s ready to leave the convalescent center at the end of the second week. Misha Collins is okay with it. Jensen will meet with him twice a week to begin with. Jared is very excited about the whole thing. He’s prepared a room for Jensen, has filled the fridge and cupboards with food, after asking what Jensen preferred. He looks like a kid on Christmas Eve. He asked permission to tell his family about Jensen, not going into details, just stating that Jensen will come to live with him for a while. 

“They must think I’m such a loser,” Jensen jokes miserably. 

“Are you kidding?” Jared answers. “My mom is dying to see you. I told her it would have to wait, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d popped in at my place despite my warnings. You know her.”

For Jensen’s first day at his place, Jared takes the afternoon off. He comes to get him shortly after lunch, chatty and enthusiastic, carrying all of Jensen’s luggage on his own despite Jensen’s protests. He lives in a nice neighborhood, occupying the entire third floor of a small condo complex. Jensen isn’t surprised to see how everything is clean and in order. It fits with Jared’s personality.

Jared has a huge aquarium with a whole bunch of tropical fish that seems to be right out of a Pixar movie. In his living room, there is a section surrounded by two folding screens with two computers, a desk, and different drawings and graphics pinned to the wall. It’s Jared’s work space at home. 

The room he’s prepared for Jensen is right next to his. The bed seems enormous. There is a small TV, a set of dressers and a desk with a potted plant. The curtains covering the windows are thick and heavy, the carpet on the floor soft, giving the impression Jensen’s feet are sinking softly into it as he walks into the room.

Jensen is a little breath-taken.

“Wow, this is… wow. Jared, you shouldn’t have,” he murmurs while Jared drops his bags on the bed.

“Almost everything was already there. It’s my guest room, remember?”

“Thanks,” Jensen answers, still impressed. “Thank you, Jared.”

“Nah, I’m just glad you’re here with me,” Jared brushes it off, shrugging. “I figured, maybe you want to nap for a while? Or take a shower? Anyway, there is only one bathroom, but we’ll share. I’ve bought some stuff for you: new toothbrush, shaving cream, razors. If you don’t like it, we’ll go to the store later, or tomorrow.”

Jensen sighs and sits on the bed. He’s very emotional these days and right now, all he wants to do is cry. He takes a couple of deep breaths, trying to keep himself under control.

Jared sits next to him. “Have I said something wrong? Jen, anything, you can tell me, you know.”

“You… I don’t have anything to pay you back, Jay. I mean, I have like… two hundred dollars in my bank account. I don’t have a job, I’ve just spent two weeks at this luxury convalescent home that you paid for, plus the medical fees for the tests and the meetings with Misha Collins and-“

“Jen.”

“No, listen to me: I don’t know how I’mma pay you back. I don’t know if I can work right now, I still feel like I’m a mess. Fragile… and…”

“I don’t care about money,” Jared answers softly. “Listen, I’m serious. Fel and I, we made some serious cash when we sold our app. I never knew what to do with this money except invest in our company, and still… It isn’t important for me, why should it be for you? It’s like you saying to me that you don’t want to use too much of my tap water. The money I have, it doesn’t make me feel special or greedy or… whatever shit money does to people. You have to believe me on this.”

Jensen nods, even if he’s not convinced. It’s not like he has a choice anyway, right? Everything he owns fits in two duffle bags and one small suitcase. 

“I’ll be able to work, soon I hope. We’ll share the cost, alright?”

“F’course,” Jared answers distractedly. “But just so you know, Misha doesn’t charge anything for treating you. He included you in this government rehabilitation program, so he receives some money in exchange for giving regular reports on your progress –it’s anonymous, of course.”

“Wow. It’s… nice.”

Jensen doesn’t mind being the subject of some study. As a matter of fact, he’s practically sure he’d signed a discharge to Collins the first day of his admittance at the convalescence center, but he’d signed a lot of papers that day, and wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind to really care.

“So, shower, nap, a bubble bath maybe?”

“I… I think I’ll go sit outside, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. You’re home here. I want you to feel comfortable.”

Jared has a nice, large balcony. Jensen settles in one of the chairs and stretches his legs on the railing, then lights up a cigarette and lets the sun warm his skin, his face. The hell with the new freckles it will probably bring. 

It's not long before Jared joins him, offering him a bottle of mineral water and assuring him that he doesn’t have to go out to smoke. Jared doesn’t mind, and he really wants Jensen to feel at home, and he would go on like this probably forever if Jensen didn't stop him.

“Jay. I just want to cut back a little, alright? I’m really not ready to give up tobacco right now, but I figure if I restrict myself to smoking on the balcony, it couldn’t hurt. M’doing this for me.”

“Okay, but if it’s raining or-“

“Jared. Sit down, you’re making me dizzy.”

“Yeah.” Jared drops on the chair next to Jensen. “I’m nervous, Jensen. It shows, right?”

“A little. S’okay, though.”

It's times like these that are worth it, where Jensen doesn’t feel the need so painfully, screaming in his head that he’d feel so much better, that everything would be so much easier with some oxy. It is still there right now, in the back of his head, like an itch he can’t scratch, but it’s so light compare to the usual painful cravings. This should happen more and more often in the weeks to come, Collins has told him, but for now, Jensen has trouble living in the future; he just tries, when he wakes up in the morning, to get through his day.

Right now, though, he’s grateful. He almost feels good, sitting here with the sun warming him and the acrid, bluish tobacco smoke filling his lungs. 

“I wish it would always be this easy,” he murmurs. 

“Good day?” Jared asks.

“Well, good afternoon. I’m almost… relaxed, I guess.”

“Because you’re home.”

Jensen smiles. “Well, it helps. But, Jared, you do know that I’m not like… cured just because I’ve been clean for a little more than two weeks and I’ve been at this convalescent center.”

“I know.”

“I locked myself in the closet for almost three hours not even two days ago.”

“Yeah,” Jared agrees, the same lazy, comfortable smile on his face. “I’m just glad you’re here, smoking a cigarette on my balcony, looking… well, like you said, almost relaxed. S’good enough for me.”

Jensen can’t really hide his surprise, realizing once more how happy Jared seems to be to have Jensen with him. He has trouble really convincing himself that Jared might need him as much as Jensen needs Jared. And he does. God knows he does.

“So,” he trails off, biting his lips before speaking. 

Misha had told him that much: he needs to talk with Jared about a particular issue. “You, huh… said you loved me.”

Jared blushes brightly. It’s kind of beautiful. “Yes. I did.”

“I’ve asked Misha about your asexuality and he told me he thinks you should speak for yourself.”

Jared sighs and leans back on his chair. “I’ve told you.”

“I know. Don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just… You said you have feelings for me, and I know I have feelings for you, but what does it mean to you, if you can’t-“

“What? Feel physical desire? I don’t know, Jen, it just is. I feel love for you. It makes me happy, just looking at you, cuddling with you, holding your hand. I know that’s probably not what you want, but-“

“It’s more than enough,” Jensen blurts out, because he hates seeing Jared so uneasy and uncomfortable. “Sex has always been a way to just feel something for me, no more, no less. And Misha, he told me that the fact that I’m never really… I don’t know, satisfied? He said it must be a form of dissociation, like my mind splits, somehow, because everything sexual reminds me of Glass and the way he’d molest me. It’s like on some level, I’m huh… protecting myself, like I’m not really there when it happens. It’s something I have to work on, and it certainly isn’t on the table right now… I mean, even if you could, I wouldn’t want that experience to turn out like all those times before.”

“So…” Jared says, and Jensen can tell he’s waiting, almost apprehending what’s coming next.

“So, what does that make us, Jared?”

Jared smiles then, relieved. It’s Jensen’s turn to be the apprehensive one.

“We love each other. Maybe it isn’t healthy, and maybe we shouldn’t, because of what got us together in the first place. I don’t mind, ya’ know. Fuck healthy and normal: neither you nor I have been that since we left that basement. Let’s just not try to give a name and reason to everything we feel. Maybe it will end up in a huge mess, or tears, or both, but for now, all I want is to make you happy.”

 _Okay, here are the tears coming up again._ Jensen swallows, hard. “I wish I could do the same. Wish I wasn’t so….”

“If you say messed up, I’m gonna kick you,” Jared declares very seriously. “What I want to know is if you’re okay with what I’ve just told you.”

Jensen nods and rubs hard at his eyes to prevent the tears from falling. “I’m more than okay.”

“Good.”

It is good.

::: :::

That night, Jensen wakes up around midnight, drenched in sweat, the last remnants of a nightmare still making his heart clench and his teeth chatter. He’d dreamed of sitting at a table covered in sweets and pastries, stuffing himself under Benton Glass’s attentive eyes. 

For a moment, Jensen thinks he’s going to be sick, but the nausea recedes slowly. He walks on shaky legs to Jared’s bedroom and sits at the side of the bed. Jared wakes up and blinks at him, mumbles, “Nightmare?”

Jensen nods. Jared moves a little and turns down the sheet; a silent, simple invitation that Jensen is more than relieved to accept. Jared wraps himself around Jensen and breathes deeply in the crook of his neck, sighing. “Feels good to have you so close,” he whispers, still half asleep.

As it turns out, it becomes a habit. Jensen sleeps better in Jared’s arms. Jared says he loves it and wouldn’t want it any other way.

::: :::

Jensen starts drawing again. It’s Misha's suggestion: Jensen must be talented, he says, having worked as a tattoo artist for five years, but more importantly, it’s something he can do to help get through the bad days, talent or not. “You’re an artist at heart, Jensen. Use it to your advantage.” As soon as Jensen tells Jared about this, his friend comes back from work, his arms full of drawing and painting supplies. Genevieve was more than happy to lend him some, Jared explains. Jensen has only met her once: he knows she works on the designs for Jared and Felicia’s video game. 

Going through all of that stuff, Jensen settles for a simple pencil. He draws sketches: at first, it’s barely some reproduction of drawings he’s done before for the tattoo parlor. As soon as he gets nervous, or scared, when it feels like Benton Glass is close, watching him with this mad desire in his eyes, Jensen does what Misha Collins told him. He draws.

The drawings evolve over the weeks. Jensen likes to illustrate dark figures coming into the light, screaming faces, mouths obscenely open, desolate landscapes. He takes his sketches to Misha, who’s more than happy to analyze them, speaking of traumatization and anger, the fear of being alone, being forgotten, the need for Jensen to rise to the light as well. He can analyze all he wants. All Jensen knows is that it works. It feels good, losing himself on the paper, letting his hand do the work. He never thinks when he draws, just goes with the flow. And the fear, the cravings, the anxiety recede to the back of his mind.

He starts using colors. Tones of red, crimson, grey and black exploding on the paper. Jared asks his permission to show some of his sketches to Genevieve, who apparently is very impressed. By then, Jensen has been living with Jared for two months and he feels good enough to start looking for a job. That is when Jared proposes that he work for his company, to help with the designs, part time, so that he can take things slow and not overdo.

Jensen thinks about it, then decides not to take up the offer. He knows Jared is hurt and does his best explaining to him that he needs to feel like he can make a life for himself. “Doesn’t change anything between us, Jay. I still need you, I still love you. But I need to know that I won’t be trapped forever in the aftermath of coming clean. I need to reach the next step by myself.”

Jared understands, which isn’t surprising. They get along so well it’s like they’ve always been together. He celebrates when Jensen finds work at a local bakery. It’s part time, and it’s hard. Jensen has to wake up at five to be at work in time to bake the bread that has been rising overnight. He’s alone in the bakery, surrounded by the comforting smell of bread, croissants, and buns baking. He likes it. It’s simple, down-to-earth work. He always comes back to the condo with something freshly baked. Jared says he’s putting on some weight because of him.

Christian calls twice a week and visits a couple of times, bringing stories about the tattoo parlor and the new employee he hired who isn’t half good as Jensen was, but can take care of the most simple tattoos. He talks about Danni a lot, until Jensen makes him admit that there is something going on between the two of them. Christian is scared of taking it to the next step. Scared of becoming his father, he says in a gruff voice. Jensen uses some psychological tricks he’s learned from his therapy with Misha to convince him of the contrary. Christian becomes all kinds of awkward and red in the face, but he listens. 

He understands that Jensen doesn’t want to visit him in Chicago. He knows it doesn’t have anything to do with him. Jensen has the feeling he’s left a version of him back there, a man he doesn’t want to be ever again. They both know that even if Christian repeats that he could have his old job back any time, it won’t happen.

Autumn in Providence is beautiful, more than Jensen remembers. He often drives around in the rusty, used car he bought with a little help from Jared. He spots places he especially likes and draws. Most of the time, the result doesn’t have a lot to do with what’s in front of his eyes, but it doesn’t matter. There are more colors now, less red and black. Misha is more than happy to analyze this as a sign that Jensen is really getting better. He shrugs in return. He just draws what comes to mind and lets it flow onto the paper. His meetings with Misha have been reduced to one per week. He doesn’t feel he needs more.

One afternoon, in the psychiatrist’s office, Jensen calls his mother. It’s something they’ve talked about often. Jensen is angry at his mother. There has been more than one occasion where he's burst into tears and yelled, thinking back about how lonely he’d felt when he was a kid, how desperate to be held and told that it was okay to be scared, okay to ask questions, to talk about the Bad Man and the things he’d done to him. When Misha asks him to elaborate about his feelings, Jensen can’t. He doesn’t know how. There is still a part of him that loves his mother, and he knows that growing up, he hadn’t made it easy for her either. “I don’t think she acted the way she did to hurt me, not consciously, but she did anyway,” he says in a uneasy voice. 

It’s his idea, though, to call Donna. He never contacted her since he left, and guilt is weighing heavily on his shoulders. He’d never realized it’s been there from the beginning. He’s not ready to work things out between them, if he ever will, but he wants her to know he’s still alive, at least. 

Misha is the one suggesting who suggests that he try during one of their meetings, and he’s probably right, because Jensen has trouble dialing the phone number he’s never forgotten, his finger shaking badly. He’s sweating and thinking about morphine, how easy it would be to do this if he was riding the lazy high of the drug. The cravings aren’t as bad now, but they’re still there. Misha says an addict will remain an addict for the rest of his life, just like an alcoholic will remain an alcoholic, even after years of abstinence. Jensen will always have to make the conscious decision of not going back to drugs.

He wishes his mother wouldn’t answer: maybe she doesn’t even live there anymore, maybe his granny will be the one nearest to the phone. 

But no. After two rings, Jensen recognizes Donna’s voice. Something swells in his throat, he starts shaking. Misha puts his hand on his shoulder and presses it lightly.

“Mom, it’s… it’s Jensen.”

“Jensen? Oh my god, baby,” his mother answers, bursting into tears. It makes Jensen angry to hear her break apart, makes him realizes he’s not ready, not ready at all, to address all the issues he has.

“Just wanted to let you know that I’m fine, mom. It’s-“

“Jensen, please talk to me, tell me where you are. I’ve been so worried about you. Please-“

He can’t breathe anymore. He wants to yell, wants to cry too, wants to ask why. He doesn’t even know what this question means, where it would lead them. “I… mom, I’m going to call you later, okay?” he says, trying to cover his mother’s sobs. “Sorry, I can’t-“

He hangs up the phone and shoves his head between his hands. Misha stays there, a reassuring presence, his hand on Jensen’s shoulder unmoving. “That must have been very difficult for you.”

“It was,” Jensen cries. “Why is everything so difficult, every fucking step I take…”

“Because that’s life,” Collins says in a soft voice. “And life isn’t fair.”

And maybe he’s right, but if life allowed Jared and him to live together, it may be not completely unfair.

To be absolutely honest with himself, Jensen knows that he’s feeling better than he has in years. He sometimes has trouble believing it, when he wakes up in the morning after a dreamless, peaceful night, tucked in Jared’s solid embrace. And as time passes, he thinks less and less about the other time Jared and him were holding to each other, back in a damp basement. Cuddling with Jared on the couch, running his fingers through his silky bangs, kissing him on the cheeks and the neck, murmuring nonsense and laughing like idiots when they go to bed: this belongs to them, only them. There is no place between them for a madman, for fear, or for childhood desperation.

::: :::

“So, Jensen is like… your boyfriend?”

Jared heard this question from Felicia, from Meggie and Jeff –even from his mother, although she used a different sentence –hell, a whole paragraph, with so much detours Jared had felt dizzy.

He doesn’t know how to answer at first. One evening, as Jensen and he are playfully fighting in bed for the TV remote, Jared gets a grip on it and holds it over Jensen's head, asking, short of breath: “Are we boyfriends?”

Jensen looks at him for a long time, then take advantage of Jared’s distraction to snatch the remote. He smiles. He looks healthier now. His nose and cheeks are full of freckles from a summer spent outside; he’s cut his hair short to get rid of the dye, and now it's growing, soft, this dark blond tint that Jared remembers from ten years ago. Jensen’s face is a little rounder, too, his mouth is fuller, lips red and plump.

He’s kind of beautiful.

“Yeah. We are,” Jensen breathes out.

“We don’t have sex,” Jared declares, sounding a little more anxious than he wants to.

“Maybe we’re saving each other for the night of the wedding,” Jensen jokes, still shuffling through the channels. “Yes! _Night of the Living Dead_! They’re coming for you, Barbara…” He whispers in a scratchy voice, looking at Jared with what must be his zombie impression.

“I was trying to have a serious conversation here, Jensen!” Jared protests with irritation.

Jensen’s face immediately crumbles. He turns the TV off and turns toward Jared, softly pushing a long strand of hair away from his face. “I’m sorry. I know that you think about this a lot, but I don’t mind, Jared. I swear.”

“You’re getting better,” Jared murmurs, and damn it, he never had the intention to turn this into some kind of whiny discourse but it’s too late now. “You’ve been clean for almost six months, you have a job, you’re not as anxious as you used to be, you don’t… need me like you used to. What if you meet someone who can make love to you and-“

Jensen’s reaction is so surprising that at first, Jared can only stay there, completely immobile, his mouth opened wide. The hit Jensen gave him on the thigh wasn’t that strong, but the way he’s pacing in the room back and forth, lighting a cigarette with anger despite the fact that he never smokes inside, is so unlike him nowadays that Jared doesn’t know what to think.

Jensen has never been mad at him before. Never. Even that time back in Illinois, when he’d realized that Christian had gone behind his back and asked Jared to come, Jensen’s anger was more like agitated desperation toward himself, not Jared.

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Jensen growls between his teeth. “Is that all I am to you? A needy, broken guy? So what, you won’t love me anymore if I don’t need you the way I used to? Fuck you, Jared.”

Is that what he said? Jared feels a surge of anxiety prickling his skin and creating a film of cold sweat all over his body. He pushes the covers back and sits at the side of the bed, ready to stand up, except he doesn’t. He’s scared his legs won’t support him. “No, that’s not what I meant,” he rasps.

“Then what, for god’s sake? Tell me, because that’s exactly what it sounds like. And for the record, Jared, I’ll always need you. It’s not because I’m not the mess I used to be that it changes anything about what I feel for you! Shit, I thought you’d gotten it!”

“Well, I’m stupid,” Jared agrees. “I am, and I’m scared to lose you. Because I’ve been working on it, trust me, but Misha thinks I might never be able to overcome my… condition. I can’t relegate you to have a life without sex just because I don’t want to lose you. How fair is that?”

“It’s not fair. Not for you, not for me, but what can we do? I mean, I don’t miss my shitty sex life. I’ve jerked off in the shower maybe two times since I came clean, and it wasn’t even enjoyable, Jared. What’s so different between you and me? It’s like I would have chosen you only because I knew you would leave me alone and not ask for sex.”

Jensen sighs and drops near Jared on the bed. All of his anger seems to have disappeared as quickly as it came. “I know how it is, trust me, to be so full of doubts, it’s like choking on it. I’m always scared you only stay with me out of pity and-“

“Jen, we’ve been through this-“

“Exactly!” Jensen says in a triumphant voice. “See? I trust you, I believe you, but sometimes my mind plays tricks on me and the doubts come back.”

Jared smiles, can’t help it. “Are you like… going all Misha on me?”

“Maybe, but you get the point. We’re kind of happy, right? You and me and our non-existent sex life?” Jensen has this lopsided smile that Jared loves so much.

“We are,” Jared agrees. 

He kisses Jensen’s forehead, feeling light and euphoric all of sudden, that he gets to have this, Jensen, by his side, day after day.

Jensen opens the window of the bedroom and throws his cigarette butt outside. It’s freezing. He makes quick work of shutting it and jumping back into bed, huddling under the covers. Jared joins him. Their feet tangle together. He likes it. 

“Misha said we could maybe have a couple of sessions together with him, to talk about our relationship.” He declares, yawning.

“Right, anything you want,” Jensen says, turning the TV back on. “Now, _Night of the Living Dead_ , right? Trust me man, you don’t know a thing about zombies if you haven’t seen Romero’s classic.”

“What if I don’t want to know about zombies?”

Jensen rolls his eyes and pats Jared’s thigh. “Now you’re just being stubborn. And stupid. Everybody likes zombies.”

Jared falls asleep before the end, but as his eyes start closing despite himself, he knows Jensen won’t mind.

::: :::

The first time it happens, Jared and Jensen have been living together for eight months. It’s one of those sinister, cold January nights in Providence, a Friday. They haven’t seen a lot of each other that week. Jared has been busy with work. Their videogame is entering a delicate phase: after months of programming, they have a beta version they need to test. They find a lot of glitches, some continuity errors, things that just don’t work with the characters. It’s a necessary step, but it’s still a little discouraging. They all knew they still had almost a year’s work ahead, but still.

As for Jensen, he’s been working double shifts at the bakery to replace one of the employees. He comes home with flour in his hair and rainbows sprinkles sticking to his arms. They usually fall asleep as soon as they hit the mattress. Jared accuses Jensen of snoring when he’s tired. Jensen replies that he, at least, doesn’t sweat enough to drench the sheets. They laugh about it. They’ve become so familiar with each other. Jensen’s smell, his presence, his voice –all of this is home for Jared.

They try to do something together on Friday since they’ve seen so little of each other. They go to Jensen’s favorite restaurant and stuff themselves with giant steaks, but when Jared sees Jensen yawning and rubbing at his eyes, he decides to skip dessert and takes them back home. They go straight to bed, tangled in each other, and sure enough, the last noise Jared hears before falling asleep is Jensen’s light snoring.

Jared doesn’t sleep well. He has trouble digesting and keeps waking up before falling back in an agitated sleep. He’s usually the big spoon, but that night, it’s Jensen, pressed against Jared’s back, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist.

Hard.

 _Jensen is hard._ Jared can feel his cock pressed against his lower back. It isn’t the first time it happens -hell, even Jared wakes up with a boner from time to time.

Jared tries to free himself from Jensen’s grip: it usually works. Jensen will turn on his belly and mumble something and it will be the end of it. It’s not even a reason for awkwardness: they’ve both been pretty open about it, even when having their common meetings with Misha Collins. Jensen has a tendency to apologize, which Jared brushes off, stating that his body is only reacting normally. He’s sleeping, what can he do about it anyway?

This time, though, when Jared tries to push Jensen back, he gets a long moan in return. Then Jensen pushes his hips closer and sighs deeply, murmuring his name.

It does things to Jared, the way Jensen moves. It’s not that surprising. He’s been sensitive to this lately, thinking about Jensen’s pale body, his freckled skin, the narrowness of his hips. He’d caught himself staring at his full mouth, green eyes and long, dark lashes. Felt something warm in his stomach whenever Jensen smiled, or hugged him. Even his smell is now something Jared feels drunk on, breathing in deeply in the crook of his neck when they’re about to fall asleep.

He doesn’t know if this can be a manifestation of physical desire, because it is all so new to him. Misha says that it’s not necessarily the answer: maybe Jared’s body is simply in the process of learning that sexual needs aren’t bad things, not dirty or wrong or downright nightmarish.

“Jen,” Jared murmurs, pressing his boyfriend’s hand. “Hey, Jensen…”

“Huuuh…” Jensen breathes out, and now his hips are moving, small jerks pressing his hard cock against Jared’s back. He can actually feel some wetness through the thin cotton of Jensen’s boxer briefs. Jared turns back to face him, which gets Jensen to open his eyes, confused, cheeks red and short of breath.

“Jensen, I think you were having a very happy dream,” Jared coaxes, smiling at him.

“Yeah…” Jensen trails off, adjusting himself. “I… I should get up and-“

He’s already trying to sit up. Jared pulls him back. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“Is it… Is it because of me?”

“What is?”

“Your hard-on, your… erection, is it because of me?”

“Of course, whom else?” Jensen answers immediately. “I mean, you’re gorgeous, Jared, and you’re tall, and muscular, and… But I don’t want you to feel like I’m asking something from you. I should let you sleep and…” Jensen snorts, pressing his hand on his crouch. “I'll go take care of business, I guess?”

“I want you to do it,” Jared declares. “I’m not sure I can, you know, participate, but I want to see what you look like when you pleasure yourself because of me.”

“Jared, are you…” Jensen’s eyes are wide in the moonlight. “What we’ve got going on, here, it’s good. I don’t want to mess it up.”

“You won’t.”

“Jay-“

Seeing Jensen so hesitant, Jared makes a bold move and lowers the sheets. He sees the bulge in his boyfriend’s briefs, sees the wet spot darkening the fabric. And he wants to see more. With an unsure hand, he grabs the elastic band of Jensen's boxers and lowers it down so that it rests under his balls.

Jensen grunts, his eyes closed. His cock is hard, an angry shade of pink, and just as Jared bends forward to have a better look at it, a drop of precome bubbles at the slit and slowly starts sliding down the side of the red mushroom head. The warm, tickling sensation starts burning in the pit of Jared’s stomach.

“Do it, Jen,” he says, caressing Jensen’s cheek softly. “Please, wanna see it.”

“Damn it,” Jensen swears, looking like he’s in pain. 

He does it, though, lowers his hand and gathers the wetness at the tip of his cock before wrapping his hand firmly around his shaft, shivering. “Wanna do it,” he murmurs, moving his hand up and down. “Wanna do it so bad but don’t want to mess us up.”

“You won’t. I swear you won’t. Show me.”

Jensen seems to give up all of his uncertainty. He jerks himself off with quick, hard motions, cupping his balls with his other hand. His eyes are barely open: just a slit of green, his forehead is covered in sweat. Jared can see his nipples peaking under his white t-shirt. 

It’s beautiful. All of it. Jared is frozen in place, trying to take everything in, the way Jensen grunts and moans, the way his hips jerks upward, his legs that are parted and bend at the knees, the head of his cock, appearing and disappearing in the circle of his fingers.

“Close,” Jensen pants. 

“You’re gonna come?”

“Fuck yeah.”

His movements are frantic, his mouth parted, the grunts replaced by a series of high-pitched “oh’s” and it’s sexy, Jared can understand that much. “You’re all here, right, Jen?” he asks, getting closer until he can murmur directly in his boyfriend’s ear. “You’re here with me, all of you, right?”

Because Jared needs to be sure, needs to know that this mind-splitting things thing that Jensen had talked about with Misha isn’t happening right now, that Jensen really feels everything he’s doing to himself.

“Yeah, oh, so good… Never… Jared-“ 

Jensen tenses all over, his eyes shut tight. He gives his cock a couple of hard jerks and starts coming, moaning loudly, swearing, shivering, as he spills over his hand and belly. 

Jared is kind of breathless. He kisses Jensen on the cheek, gets even closer to him. “That’s it, Jensen, ride it. You’re so fucking beautiful… Love you, love you so much.”

Jensen turns his head toward him, his pupils blown and this huge, incredibly gorgeous smile on his lips. “Love you too, Jay. It… it never felt that good before. Just knowing you were there, watching me.”

Jared smiles back and wraps his arms around Jensen’s warm body, hugs him tight, not caring about the semen sticking to his own belly, drying on his t-shirt. He breathes in deep the smell of Jensen. It’s so good he could cry.

And the warm feeling burning inside of him expands. He feels a light twitch in his cock. It’s not much, and not a proper erection by any means, but it’s more than Jared has felt in years and for him, it’s close to a miracle.

Okay, so maybe he cries a little, his face buried in Jensen’s neck. Jensen caresses his hair and tells him he loves him, that he’s happy, they’re happy.

In their own, unique way.

Misha would tell Jared to stop thinking so hard, to learn to enjoy what’s given to him without questioning it. Losing control can be a good thing.

 _We’re really not in that basement anymore,_ Jared thinks. _We finally made it out._

It’s like stepping out of the darkness and into the sun all over again, except this time, Jensen is right there with him.

FIN

**Author's notes**

There is so much I’d like to say about this story, but I’ll try to keep it short. First of all, I always try to write in the most respectful way possible when I touch on subjects as delicate as this one. That is not to say I can’t make a mistake, and if I offended anyone who’s been a victim of sexual abuse, or has had to support a victim, I’m deeply sorry. That wasn’t my intention at all.

About the story itself, now. As you must have figured out, there is still a lot of unknown facts and events regarding Benton Glass. That was done on purpose, because this story is Jared and Jensen’s, entirely from their point of view. What you know is what they know, and it was never my intention to focus on the monster I created. On the matter of Jensen’s mother, the same thing can be said. We never really get to know her from an objective point of view. She might seem downright evil, but I didn’t plan that –although you guys have the right to hate her. My view is, having been part of parents’ support groups, I came to learn that everyone reacts differently when something traumatic happens to their child, and some are better equipped, emotionally speaking, than others. This can make all the difference for a child who’s been through something so horrible, or who suffers a handicap. Most of the time, a parent that reacts in a way that can be damaging doesn’t do it consciously. In the end, they just try to deal with it as all of us do. We don’t know where Jensen’s mother comes from, we don’t know if she was a well-balanced mother before her son got kidnapped, and I left that open-endedness there. Her reaction to her son’s aggression is seen through Jensen and Jared’s eyes only. What they feel is what you get. :-) 

 

**References**

When We Were Very Young is a story book for children written by author A.A. Milne. It tells the original adventures of Winnie the Pooh.

Where The Wild Things Are is a story book for children written by author Maurice Sendak. It tells the story of a little boy who decides to let his anger out and visit his “wild side.”

Misplaced Childhood is the title of a concept album from progressive rock band Marillion. The quote at the beginning comes from the first track, _Pseudo Silk Kimono._

Button Soup, sometimes called _Stone Soup_ or _Nail Soup_ , is a traditional folk story. The Disney version referred to in my story was part of a book collection. Here’s the cover.

Thanks for reading. This was my first Big Bang experience and it’s been great from start to finish.

Much love,  
Etoile


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